


Frost's Son, Snow's Daughter

by hotchoco195



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, BAMF Natasha, Consent Issues, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, FrostWidow, Imprisonment, Loki Does What He Wants, Not Romance, Not What It Looks Like, Odin's A+ Parenting, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Pregnancy, all the feels in the world, monarchs, so spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-01-16 02:23:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 67,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1328395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotchoco195/pseuds/hotchoco195
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki's main problem with being supreme dictator is (surprisingly) the lying. He needs someone to talk to. Who better than the feisty and dangerous Natasha? But they discover very quickly that appearances can be deceiving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic uses several real life and very important people as background characters. Any representations are entirely from my own imagination.
> 
> EDIT: I've done a massive rewrite because I decided to continue this. It's mostly fixing some typos and stuff, but there are significant changes to chapter 1.

Loki was bored. He finally had everything he’d ever coveted, the power and prestige of the Allfather with no Thor around to spoil it, the awe and respectful dread of the Aesir, and a chance to rule Asgard the way he’d always planned. But it wasn’t exactly a social life: Odin didn’t have _friends_ , and since Loki had to act with the age and dignity of the king he couldn’t associate with the younger members of the court even if he’d wanted to. He needed a companion, someone to provide intelligent conversation, who wouldn’t be frightened by his status or notice if his pretence slipped for a minute.

He was thinking the problem over as his eyes swept the feast hall. The warriors were on their best behaviour in his presence but there was still laughter and cheering, and he felt more apart from them than ever. An older noble approached his table, bowing as he reached the dais.

“Sire.”

Loki inclined his head. “My lord Finnr.”

“May I sit?”

He waved towards the empty chair beside him. “You have something you wish to discuss?”

Finnr sat with a soft groan, twisting to get comfortable. When he regarded Loki, his face was deeply furrowed with concern. “I only thought to ask how you fare. You seem...saddened, of late.”

“I find myself lost without Queen Frigga. Without my sons.”

“All Asgard feels your loss as keenly as their own.”

“I appreciate the people’s concern, but it does not ease my troubles.”

Lord Finnr looked down at the tablecloth for a moment, suddenly hesitant. “Could you not take another queen, Your Grace?”

“What?” Loki frowned.

“I mean no disrespect, of course. But if you require some solace, you might think to remarry.”

“So soon?”

Finnr shrugged. “No one would dispute your love for Queen Frigga. You are the Allfather, Defender of the Nine. It is a heavy burden. You deserve someone to take care of you.”

Loki sat back, pursing his lips. “You think anyone would wish to marry a maimed old brute like me?”

“I think if you sent word you were looking for a bride, we’d have ten thousand maids at our gates by the end of the day.”

Loki huffed out a laugh and took a sip of his wine. The idea had merit. He’d never really thought of marriage before but it suited a king to have a queen, someone to look good by his side. He might even father some new heirs on her, since Thor had run off to Earth and he was supposedly dead. It was worth thinking about.

“It is too soon. I am not inclined to open my heart again.”

Lord Finnr ducked his head. “Of course, my king. No one could blame you for that.”

“I appreciate your counsel.”

“It is only my duty, Your Grace.”

 

Alone in his chambers, Loki stripped off his golden armour and considered the problem. As Finnr had said, he could send an open offer for candidates to all the realms and receive hundreds of responses, but it was too public. If Thor heard his grieving father was looking to wed again, he would have questions – probably outraged ones. So Loki would have to select his choices personally and quietly.

Where to look? Jotunheim was out obviously, as was Mulspelheim. He wasn’t keen on a dwarf bride either. Asgard was full of suitable women but Loki knew them all and wasn’t impressed by any. Frigga had been of Vanaheim, and it would make sense for Odin to look there again – not to mention that their women were versed in sorcery. That could be dangerous though. If he picked one too clever, she might see right through his illusion.

Which left two options – the elves of Alfheim and a Midgardian. Humans were very short-lived, which could suit his purposes or be a bother depending on who he picked. They had no appreciation for magic and no understanding of the many realms, so asking one to be queen of Asgard was ludicrous. He’d look much better with a stately elf on his arm than some awestruck mortal. Loki studied himself in the mirror, letting his guise slip into his true face. He conjured up a shimmering elf, her hair long and silvery-gold, her arm linked with his.

“What a pair we’d make. Light and darkness.” He chuckled to his reflection, banishing the illusion as he resettled into the Allfather’s form. Yes, starting tomorrow he would seek out the highest noble elf maidens and see if any caught his interest.

 

Loki couldn’t go to Alfheim as Odin. It would stir up too much interest and too much trouble. He left a semblance of the Allfather in his chambers and slipped through the crack between realms, heavily cloaked against watching eyes. It was as a fine, barrel-chested blond Aesir that he approached the palace, the dust of the path falling off his boots as he reached the gates.

“Your name, stranger?” the guard asked.

“Hákon of Asgard. I come as a messenger from Odin Allfather.”

“Aghi,” the elf called to someone in the courtyard, “Escort this honoured guest to our lord.”

A boy who looked about eleven or twelve hurried over, bowing to Loki with a wave. “This way, my lord.”

“My thanks.”

He followed the boy into the building. It was nowhere near as grand as Asgard, nor as ethereally beautiful as Vanaheim, but there was a certain light to the towering spires and the pale brickwork. Nature seemed to overrun the palace, ivy and moss covering the stone in places, small gardens tucked against the walls. Aghi led him through the main doors to a tall airy reception chamber. Lord Frey sat on his throne talking to a group of servants. He was an older elf but still handsome, his hair completely white and worn braided back. It was similar enough to Malekith to give Loki a chill. His tunic was silver, otherwise unadorned and with none of the armour Asgardians favoured in their dress. He looked up as they entered, tilting his head to listen as Aghi ran forward to announce the new arrival. Frey clapped his hands and the servants scattered. He stood, stepping off the dais with a smile.

“Greetings, Hákon. The Aesir are always welcome in these halls.”

“Your hospitality is praised throughout the realms.”

“What can we do for the Allfather?”

“It is a rather sensitive matter. Have I your assurance of total discretion?”

“Of course.”

“King Odin is looking for noble elven ladies of a marriageable age.”

Frey raised his brows, dropping his voice. “For Prince Thor? We would be only too happy to oblige-”

“His Highness has taken up residence on Midgard. I will not be indelicate but I’m sure you’ve heard the rumours.”

“That he has a woman there, yes. Well we can’t begrudge him that – he is young. He has many years to find a wife. But if you are not here for him…”

Loki nodded subtly. “The Allfather.”

Frey’s mouth dropped open. “You cannot mean-”

“Yes,” the trickster whispered, “I come to find the next queen of Asgard.”

The elf rubbed his hand over his mouth, looking away. “We are privileged indeed to be considered. You are to look them over?”

“If you would introduce me without telling anyone why I am here, I would appreciate it. I shall take some time to get to know something of their character before reporting back to the Wise One.”

Frey gave a short laugh, shaking his head. “This is truly a remarkable thing. But I will not delay you and risk incurring Odin’s displeasure. Let us go find the young women.”

He clapped a hand on Loki’s shoulder, heading for the stairs. They went up a couple of levels to a long hall and then into a bright sun-filled chamber where several women sat sewing or playing instruments, one sprawled over a chaise with a thick tome.

“Lord Hákon, this is my daughter Ingríðr and her ladies. Gentlewomen, this is Hákon of Asgard. He is a guest, and a most welcome one at that.”

The ladies eyed him speculatively, Loki noting more than one expression of interest amongst the stunning faces. He smiled at the Lord Frey.

“I think we shall get along nicely.”

 

It took everything in Loki’s considerable powers of persuasion to extract himself from the parlour. The elven women certainly liked to talk, and Lord Frey gave him an unhappy look every time he mentioned going. He followed Loki out into the hall, falling in step as the god headed for the stairs.

“I trust you found them pleasing?”

“Yes,” he nodded, “Lovely, all. And very accomplished.”

That wasn’t a lie. The elves were skilled in music and literature, well-educated and possessing a good knowledge of strategy despite their peaceful natures. But they were _dull_. Loki had tried unsuccessfully to bait a few of them into challenging him and they’d just given the same enigmatic smile and continued talking as if he hadn’t said anything. He needed a wife who would be stimulating, not window dressing.

Lord Frey looked relieved at the compliment, hurrying after him. “Tell the Allfather we shall pay him a visit if he desires to make a more personal acquaintance with any of our ladies.”

“I have still to visit Vanaheim, but I assure you I will let you know if he requires their attendance.”

“Our blessings on you, Lord Hákon.”

“And you, my lord.”

The old elf grasped his hands, squeezing amiably. Loki managed a half-smile and broke away, escaping through the palace gates. No, even if they met all the criteria for a good queen (beauty, grace, good manners and common sense) the elves were not suitable for _him_. The list of women who had caught Loki’s eye over the years was exceedingly short and they were always high-spirited or sharply intelligent. He couldn’t marry someone meek and boring. It would be worse than his current situation and he’d probably end up tiring of her in a week and offending the elves by sending her back.

He moved through the space between Yggdrasil’s branches and stepped out into a Midgardian city, clothes changing to match the nearby humans. Loki glanced around for some clue of where he was. All his knowledge of Midgard came from Barton’s explanations but judging by the climate he was somewhere to the North, Europe perhaps. It was a good place to start; from what he remembered most of the surviving monarchies on Midgard were centred in the Old World. There was no question of him marrying a commoner, since he was already lowering himself by picking a human at all.

Loki headed down the street, eyeing the Midgardians until he spotted a flustered-looking man hurrying along with a plastic bag in each hand. Loki smiled to himself and moved closer, bumping the human’s shoulder roughly as he brushed past.

“Hey!” the man shouted.

“I’m terribly sorry – forgive my clumsiness.” Loki gave a bashful look.

He shook his head and stalked off, muttering angrily, and the god ducked into a side street. Once he’d covered some distance he found a bench and sat, taking out the phone he’d pickpocketed while the Midgardian was distracted. He didn’t have much practice using the Internet but it couldn’t be too hard to run a few searches for young single royals.

*****

Loki watched the two redheads climbing out of their car, guards close behind. They were very similar, the sisterly resemblance obvious. They were also young, possibly too much so for him. He moved down the block and crossed the road, heading into the restaurant behind them.

The princesses were at a table in the upper corner with several people their own age. He walked over with a smile but the second he got close a guard stepped in his path.

“Go around please.”

“What?”

“Maintain your distance, sir.”

“I only meant to introduce myself. I am Lord Hákon of Asgard, and I wish to say hello to Their Highnesses.”

“Nobody approaches without prior arrangement.”

“Ah. I understand. Who should I contact about arrangements?”

“The princesses’ secretary. You can find her number on the royal family’s website.”

He backed away with a rueful smile, scowling as soon as he turned. The more contact he had with the humans, the more likely word would spread about his venture, and the last thing he needed was Thor hearing about it.

He found an unattended computer in a nearby shop and pulled up the website, finding the right address. Loki popped himself to the offices and walked in with a huge smile for the receptionist.

“Good afternoon, how may I help you?”

“Lord Hákon of Asgard to see the secretary for Princesses Eugenie and Beatrice.”

“I’m sorry, where were you from?”

“Asgard.”

The receptionist blinked at him. “Asgard.”

“Surely you have heard of Prince Thor?”

“Yes. May I say what it’s in relation to?”

“A possible offer of marriage.”

Her brows shot up. “Take a seat and I’ll let her know you’re here.”

He perched on the edge of an armchair and glanced over the glossy magazines on the table while he waited. After about fifteen minutes a blonde women in her forties with a very severe suit came out and spoke to the receptionist for a moment before heading over, hand out.

“Sarah Winters, secretary for Their Highnesses.”

“Lord Hákon of Asgard.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Come this way.”

She led him into a large comfortable office, half given over to a desk with lots of computer screens and half a library-like parlour area with bookcases and couches. They sat, the woman crossing her legs, Loki arranging himself casually but with the proper dignity for an Aesir.

“How can I help you?”

“I have come as a messenger from King Odin. He is looking to take a bride and is considering one of the Midgardian princesses, and he has selected me to meet them and decide if any are suitable. To that end I will require you to arrange a meeting with Their Highnesses.”

Ms Winters pursed her lips. “I’m sorry. As astounding as it is that His Majesty would make an offer like that, the princesses aren’t interested in arranged marriages of state.”

“What do you mean, they aren’t interested?”

“It’s been made very clear that they wish to live the most normal lives possible outside their royal commitments.”

“I am offering them a chance to be Queen of Asgard, highest sovereign in the Nine Realms,” he gaped, “And they would pass that up for the sake of normality?”

“It’s very important to them.”

“Your royal women clearly have strange ideas about what is expected of them.”

When she spoke it was with obviously forced politeness. “Our society has changed a lot over the last hundred years or so. Naturally we mean no offense to your people, but I believe I can say with confidence the princesses will not be changing their minds.”

He huffed and stood. “Well then. I am sorry for wasting your time.”

 

He got the same story from every aide and assistant he spoke to. Apparently Midgardian women met his strong-willed criteria a little too well. Loki spent a week going from court to court trying to find one princess who wasn’t determined to marry for love and couldn’t find any that were sufficiently awed by the Allfather to change their minds, even in the Norse countries.

He found himself at a charity ball in Buenos Aires, sipping champagne as he meandered through the crowd and kept an eye out for his target. He passed the groups of CEOs and bankers and moved to a table in the middle of the room with several similar-looking blondes clustered together. There was a woman in the middle of about thirty, her dress expertly tailored to fit her and her jewellery clearly antique and expensive. He made his way closer and bowed.

“Good evening Your Highness.”

Theodora of Greece and Denmark looked him over speculatively, exchanging a glance with her siblings. “Good evening.”

“I wondered if I might be so forward as to introduce myself. My name is Lord Hákon.”

“An interesting name.” she mused.

“Not where I come from. May I sit?”

“Certainly,” she waved to an empty chair, “And where is that?”

“Asgard.”

“Asgard?” she raised a brow, “As in the realm of the gods?”

“That is what the mortals called us many years ago, yes.”

“So you know Thor and Odin?”

“Yes.”

“No offence, my lord, but what are you doing here then? I doubt your people care much about our charities.”

“I am here to meet you, Your Highness.”

“Oh?” Theodora frowned, “Why would you be interested in me?”

“Tell me princess, what is your view on arranged marriages?”

 

Loki walked into the room to find King Constantine and Queen Anne-Marie sitting at a long table, discreetly holding hands under the edge and looking very concerned. Princess Theodora was noticeably absent; however the rest of the room was occupied by several people in black. Some he took to be the royals’ own security but the others were definitely SHIELD. There was a dark-haired woman he didn’t know with thick-rimmed glasses and a colourful streak in her hair, and beside her looking nearly demure in a plain black dress was Agent Romanov. She had a short stack of manila folders and a notepad, a pen in hand. Loki had no doubt she wasn’t there simply to play secretary.

“My greetings, your majesties.” He bowed respectfully.

“Lord Hákon?” the woman said.

“Indeed. And you are?”

“Agent Victoria Hand of SHIELD. You may have heard of us?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“We’re an agency tasked with handling special…situations. As the group with the most hands-on experience dealing with Asgard, His Majesty asked us to sit in and help facilitate your discussions as much as possible.”

“You have experience with Asgard?”

“With princes Thor and Loki yes, as well as some artefact finds.”

“You understand, this is all so new to us,” Queen Anne-Marie said, “We mean no disrespect to your king but it’s hard to believe such a place exists.”

“I do not blame you for your scepticism. Asgard’s glory can be overwhelming.”

He took a seat at the head of the table between the two groups. Natasha’s eyes dragged over him subtly and he almost chuckled. Did they really think he was up to something or was Agent Hand’s little speech true?

“We understand King Odin is extending an offer of marriage to Princess Theodora?”

“Pending a meeting. Neither party should agree to anything until we have established some compatibility. And of course it will be very hard for Her Highness, having to leave her friends and family for an unfamiliar realm.”

“We may have lost our lands,” Constantine said, “But Theodora was raised a princess. She knows what is expected.”

“Times have changed on Midgard. I am not certain any of your young women would relish giving up their freedom for the much stricter hierarchy of the Asgardian court.”

“We agree the princess will need to see your world before she makes a decision.” Agent Hand clasped her hands on the table.

“When would be a good time for her to visit?” Loki looked at the monarchs.

Constantine and Anne-Marie exchanged a glance.

“I believe she will need a week or two to make arrangements, but we should be able to clear her schedule.”

“There are things to consider,” Agent Hand took over, “What kind of entourage will the princess need? How long will she be staying? You understand we’ll need to be able to communicate with her and some way for her to return early if necessary.”

“Her Highness shall not lack for handmaidens or guards, but she may of course bring her own if it makes everyone more comfortable. She may stay as long as she likes, or as little. Communication will be trickier but not impossible.”

“We’ll need to discuss the ramifications of any marriage between the princess and your king. What would her responsibilities be? How much contact will there be with Earth and her parents?”

“Agent Hand, all this can be settled once they have met. It is useless to talk details if Her Highness does not take a liking to the Allfather.”

The agent looked at Constantine, who nodded succinctly. “Alright. We’ll discuss this with Her Highness and organise a date in two weeks. I imagine she’ll be travelling by Bifrost?”

“You _are_ well informed, Agent Hand. Yes, the gatekeeper will collect your group from wherever you choose,” he stood, bowing, “I shall carry these tidings to the Allfather, with your blessing.”

“We look forward to meeting him.” The queen smiled nervously.

“And he you, I am certain.” Loki’s eyes raked over Natasha again as he let himself out.

 

He waited for them to finish talking, following the agents invisibly as they left. Loki slipped from shadow to shadow until they were outside, the two women climbing into a waiting car. He drifted into the empty front seat, smirking to himself.

“What do you think?” Agent Hand asked as the door closed.

“It’s hard to tell with Asgardians but from what Thor says they’re mostly honest people.”

“He certainly seemed on the level, though I admit I was expecting more pomp and fanfare.”

“I don’t know…” Natasha trailed off.

“Agent?”

“There was something he wasn’t telling us.”

“Look, it’s dangerous. Once Theodora’s up there we have no way of getting her back. But we have to ask what motives the Asgardians could have anyway. Who is she to them? Nobody. Her only interest is as a potential bride. I’m inclined to buy his story, if only because nothing else makes sense.”

“I don’t believe Odin would do anything to start a conflict with Earth. He’s sworn to protect it. But I also find the idea of him looking for a wife here slightly odd when he has nine realms to choose from. Princess or not, she’s a bit ordinary for him.”

Hand shrugged. “Maybe he’s looking to strengthen ties with us after the incident with Loki. He knows he needs the goodwill.”

“Excuse me, but he doesn’t. He’s Odin Allfather. If he wants something, we can’t stop him taking it.”

“I’ll suggest to Director Fury we send some people with Theodora. They can scout around, get a feel for the court, perhaps offer the king some overtures on SHIELD’s behalf. You and Barton will probably be selected thanks to your association with Thor.”

“We’re not diplomats.”

“But you are shield-brothers of the crown prince, as they say. You’ll make a good impression.”

Natasha pursed her lips and glanced at the window. “Don’t send Barton. After Loki…it’s best he stay far away from any of that talk. He’s not so good at censoring himself.”

“Understood.” Agent Hand said plainly, no judgement in her tone.

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose. Having Agent Romanov in Asgard was an unseen complication, but it needn’t be too much of a bother. She didn’t know Odin and as long as he chose his words carefully she’d have no reason to suspect he was anything more than he appeared. He just had to focus on wooing Theodora and convincing her it was worth marrying a much older man. Life would be much simpler if he could only use his true form – but then, the traitor Jotunn’s list of suitors was considerably shorter than the Allfather’s.

He popped himself out of the car and back to Asgard. They had a princess to prepare for.

 

A fortnight later he found himself posed patiently on his stolen throne, spear in hand, the court arranged before him. They talked quietly amongst themselves, knowing better than to gossip about the king within his earshot. Loki was wondering if he should have specified a time when the doors opened and a group of Midgardians entered. Princess Theodora wore a long evening gown, the trailing purple satin very regal. There were guards at her shoulders and a trio he assumed were SHIELD behind, Natasha just to the side. She looked stunning in a green dress that he suspected hid several weapons, formal without being too showy. She was still playing the unremarkable character, her posture and gait changed to hide her training. Loki could see a certain something in her gaze though, something too observant as she swept the crowd.

They stopped before the throne and he stood, nodding as they curtsied and bowed. “My greetings, Your Highness. Welcome to Asgard. May you feel at home here.”

“You have our gratitude for the invitation, Your Grace.”

“It is I who should be grateful that you accepted. We have prepared a feast to welcome you and your retinue. My people will take your things to your chambers, if you will accompany me?”

“Of course.”

He offered his arm and she took it lightly, the Asgardians and humans following at a polite distance as they made their way into the main banquet hall. Loki led her to the head table. It was only set with four places. It was meant to look less intimidating for the princess but really it let Loki keep SHIELD at arm’s length. Lord Finnr took the one to Loki’s left and after a quick silent discussion between the agents Natasha sat on Theodora’s right.

“Tell me about yourself, my dear. Lord Hákon informs me you are interested in theatre.”

“I’ve studied drama for several years now and I’m on a daily soap opera.”

He raised his brows. “I cannot imagine you are very keen to leave such prospects.”

Theodora frowned. “My father may no longer have a throne but I understand the importance of an alliance between Earth and Asgard. I’m flattered to be considered out of the millions of women who might suit you better, and I’m certainly prepared to give up my career for such an enormous opportunity.”

“Good, good. I would not want to think I was tearing you away from your passions. Tell me about your origins. You were born in London?”

“Yes, I’ve spent most of my life there.”

“It was much damaged in the recent Dark Elf attacks.”

“Unfortunately, but they’re working on the repairs.”

“It is a resilient city,” he smiled, “So often destroyed and yet they continue to rebuild.”

“They’re strong people.”

“Like my Aesir. I think you will come to admire them. They are loyal to the point of insanity, and always willing to make the noble sacrifice.”

“They sound wonderful.”

“I’ll introduce you to a few after supper. I imagine you have questions for me?”

“Well, yes,” the blonde looked at her plate, “I mean this is so new to us on Earth. Until recently we thought it was all just stories. Maybe you could sort out the fact from the myths?”

Loki noticed Natasha listening attentively and smiled. “I believe I can accommodate you.”

 

He spent the next few days getting to know Theodora. They had meals together, sometimes with other Asgardians and sometimes alone, and they took walks through the palace. He found her quite bright - if a bit shy - and very compassionate. She had the essentials for a good queen and just enough pep to keep him interested, though she was nothing mind-blowing. Everywhere they went Natasha shadowed them like a scent on the breeze, always just out of sight but her gaze burning a hole in the back of his neck.

Loki was wandering in from the training yards one morning when he ran into her outside the guest wing. She curtsied and Loki smiled.

“You do not need to do that every time you see me, Lady Natasha. It is too much effort if we must pass each other ten times a day. Are you enjoying your stay?”

“Asgard is beautiful,” she said, apparently sincere, “And everyone’s been very nice.”

“And your mistress?”

“I can’t speak for her, sire.”

Loki grinned wryly. “I suppose I don’t have much to offer her in the way of charms.”

“If you don’t mind me being too bold, sire, there’s a lot you have that no man on Earth could match. Centuries of knowledge and experience, a reputation as a good ruler but also as a loving husband. You are known to be loyal and attentive. She could do much worse.”

He laughed. “You are bold.”

“I apologise-”

“No, it’s refreshing. You remind me of Frigga actually. She was never afraid to tell me when I was wrong.”

“I was sorry to hear of your loss, Your Majesty.”

Loki sighed. “Yes. You probably think it strange I should be looking to wed again.”

“I know what it’s like to be alone.”

“Your sentiment is appreciated, Lady Natasha.”

She curtsied, taking it for the dismissal it was, and continued down the hall. Loki watched her go for a moment. If any of the Aesir heard her speaking to the king like that, there would have been an outrage. It was thrilling. Natasha was never shy about her words, and she was one of only a handful of people in the Nine who left him guessing about what she really thought.

She was beautiful too, he gladly admitted that. And she fought but she preferred stealth and intellect, like himself. A thought glimmered at the edge of his mind, an image of him on the throne with her beside him. Loki snorted. That would be a disaster – Natasha Romanov might bite where her owners instructed but she was no wilting flower. She’d never agree to an arranged marriage unless it was a cover, no matter how important the groom.

Oddly it made the prospect even more appealing. He’d told her once he’d make her suffer, and what better way than to strand her far from home, out of her element, helpless in his power? It would be foolish bringing a woman he knew to be dangerous and mistrustful into his palace when so much rested on the enduring belief that he was Odin. But how would she know the difference? What could she do even if she figured it out? He had magic and she had none; she had no way of telling anyone on Earth and the Aesir wouldn’t believe her.

Loki ran his tongue over an incisor and strolled back to his rooms. He could have Theodora, a woman trained to rule, a woman who knew her duty but wasn’t completely two dimensional. Or he could have a tamed spider, magnificent and fierce. It was a difficult decision, but then Loki had always preferred mischief to the safe route.

 

He accompanied them back to the Bifrost on a palace mare. Sleipnir still refused to have anything to do with him, sensing something off in the illusion. Loki would have to find a way to fix that before he needed the mount.

Theodora kept glancing at him sidelong as they rode. He could tell she was weighing the glory and prestige of Asgard against having sex with a man older than her civilisation, no longer young and handsome, marked by battles and more than a little gruff. It wasn’t a flattering summary. Loki didn’t care; he’d already made up his mind.

They reached the observatory and dismounted, the king helping her down from the saddle chivalrously. He clasped her hands.

“Princess Theodora, your presence has been a great pleasure. I hope you liked Asgard’s hospitality?”

“I have no complaints, Your Grace.”

“My emissary will visit you and your family tomorrow to discuss our thoughts.”

He kissed her hand and she smiled, walking to the Bifrost opening. Natasha passed and Loki nodded, the redhead returning the gesture. He signalled to Heimdall and the god thrust his sword into the mechanism, the orb beginning to spin. The light of the bridge flashed and the Midgardians were gone. He stood for a moment, contemplating his next move.

“She is stunning, my lord.” Heimdall said.

“The princess is lovely, yes. I am not sure she feels the same about me.”

“I was not talking about the princess.”

He eyed the tall Aesir suspiciously and Heimdall looked back straight-faced. “I do not attempt to guess what you imply.”

“Only that the master of Asgard is free to choose as he likes.”

“And you think you know what I like?”

“I am skilled at observation, sire.” He tapped his nose with a finger.

Loki smirked. “That you are. We can only hope you are as right in this as in everything else.”

 

Loki entered the palace in his Hákon mask and was promptly directed to a private parlour. Theodora sat on the couch beside her mother, her father by the window. Agent Hand and Natasha were both also present, tucked in a corner.

“My lord, it is good to see you again. Theodora’s been telling us so much about her trip. I am almost sorry I missed it.” The queen smiled at him.

“I am glad to hear Her Highness was pleased with our showing. If you will excuse me though, I have a few words for Agent Hand before we conclude our talks.”

The king frowned, glancing at Victoria. “Very well. You may use the study next door.”

“My lady?” he waved a hand.

She followed him, Loki closing the connecting door quietly. Agent Hand looked him over and he gave a regretful sigh, schooling his face into an uncomfortable expression.

“Agent Hand, the Allfather harbours no misconceptions about Princess Theodora. She is young and beautiful, and though she will agree to this marriage from duty – an admirable trait – she will not be happy in Asgard.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. The princess has been quite positive about her visit. I believe she means to accept his offer.”

“My king feels he needs a companion without the ties of kith and kin, someone who will embrace life in Asgard, able to adapt to the many new people and ways of life. He has taken a shining to one of your agents.”

Hand’s brow twitched slightly. “An agent?”

“You understand why I cannot say this in front of Their Majesties and the princess. It would be insulting to hear that his eye roamed during an offer of betrothal, and to a commoner no less. But that is the case, unfortunate as it may be.”

“May I clarify which agent?”

“Lady Natasha.”

She blinked. “Natasha.”

“Yes. He was taken with her wit and poise. She presented herself well.”

“That…complicates things.”

“It need not. I will break the engagement to Theodora and her royal parents, and the Allfather’s terms stand open for Lady Natasha to accept. You will receive your alliance with Asgard and any dowry your Director sees fit.”

“No offence, my lord, but she’s no princess. Agent Romanov hasn’t been raised for the role you’re trying to put her in.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t stopped her in the past.”

“And her value as an agent is immeasurable. The director’s not going to want to give her up.”

“Can he offer her the life of a queen?” he arched a brow.

“Not to my knowledge, my lord.”

“Then you will convey Odin’s offer to him and the lady. Send your verdict tomorrow with this,” he handed her a golden scroll, “And if the result is marriage Agent Romanov will need to be ready to leave for Asgard in a week.”

Agent Hand pressed her lips together and nodded. “I’ll let him know.”

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I must inform the others of His Majesty’s decision.” Loki swept out.

*****

“This is nuts.” Clint crossed his arms over his chest.

“You’ve already made your opinion quite clear, Agent Barton.” Fury glowered at him.

“I just thought I should mention it again, since you don’t seem too concerned by how archaic and misogynistic this all is. You know, treating Nat like _property._ ”

The redhead shrugged. “It’s not the first time.”

“This is Agent Romanov’s decision, and she is under no pressure to accept.”

“Right, she just might be jeopardising future Asgardian/Earth relations if she doesn’t. No pressure.”

“Clint.” Natasha said softly, arching a brow.

He went silent, pouting as he avoided her gaze. They were in a hotel suite overlooking the Thames, Fury standing watchfully by the window while the two agents sat on the couch.

“I doubt Odin is going to taint his position as protector of Midgard with any kind of scorned reprisals,” the director replied, “Especially with Thor here looking for Loki’s sceptre. But that’s why we’re talking to him before we make any agreements.”

As if summoned by the thought, the suite door opened and Agent Hand walked in with the thunder god. Thor smiled when he saw Natasha and Clint, waving a hand.

“Greetings, shield-brethren!”

“Hey Thor,” Nat smiled, “Good to see you.”

“I did not expect the visit, but it is welcome.”

“Prince Thor,” Fury straightened, “Please take a seat. I’m glad you could join us.”

“How could I refuse when you have come all this way? And your agent was most cryptic. I was intrigued.” He sat opposite the spies, resting his leg on his knee, as Agent Hand moved to stand near Fury.

“We’ve had some contact with Asgard.” The director said.

“Contact?” Thor frowned.

Agent Hand took over. “A representative extended an invitation to Princess Theodora of Greece and Denmark on behalf of Odin. Do you know her?”

He shook his head. “I cannot say I do. But the Allfather knows everyone.”

“He wanted to meet her to see if they were compatible.”

“Compatible for what?” the blond blinked.

“Marriage.” Natasha said.

Thor burst out laughing, looking between them all expectantly. “It is a good jest, my friends.”

“It’s not a joke, Thor. The princess went to Asgard and spent several days with him. Agent Romanov reports they got along great.”

Thor’s smile flickered, brows furrowing. “You’re not serious? Why should the king want to take a wife of Midgard?”

“We were hoping you could tell us.”

 

He looked between them again, finally settling on Fury. “My father was wed to Frigga for over a thousand of your years, and she has been gone less than six months. He would not think to remarry so soon, I am sure of it.”

“Well he didn’t propose to Theodora anyway,” Victoria made a face, “He offered it to Agent Romanov instead.”

“To Lady Natasha?” Thor’s brows shot up, “Not that I fault his taste, but she is a commoner.”

“Yeah, we thought it was weird too.” Clint snorted.

Fury tapped his fingers against his belt. “Any chance you could talk to Odin, find out what he’s thinking?”

Thor grimaced. “I am afraid not. I have sworn to him I will remain on Midgard as this realm’s protector, and distanced myself from his affairs. To get involved would be overstepping – I have renounced my birthright as his heir, and as such have no say in Asgardian matters. But Odin is wise; I am certain if he plans to take a bride, he has good reason.”

“It doesn’t have to be as his heir – you’re his son. Surely your dad getting married is family business.” The director pointed out.

“Perhaps. I have many questions about his decision…but I know my father well enough to know he means no harm. Indeed, he honours Midgard, and that may well be his purpose. He may only wish to strengthen the ties between our people after the damage both Loki and Malekith have caused.”

“What benefits would the marriage give us?” Fury asked, ignoring the way Clint’s glare burned into him.

“Protection, though that you have already. Greater representation in the other realms, and greater glory. What dowry has he offered?”

“Whatever Director Fury sees fit.” Agent Hand said.

Thor whistled low. “You could gain much then. Weapons, technology, warriors. Knowledge from the great libraries of Asgard, ambassadors to the other realms. Trade agreements. It would be very valuable to your people.”

“Sure, we just have to sell Nat to get it.” The archer growled.

“Barton!”

“It would not be the slavery you envision, friend Clint. Arranged marriages are common in Asgard, and both participants are held equal in all things.”

“You think I should do it?” Natasha pursed her lips.

“I will give you no illusions – the Allfather is a difficult man,” Thor leaned forward, eyes on the Russian, “He is not always as sympathetic as we may desire him to be, but it is because he must think of the good of all realms. He was a devoted husband, in his own fashion. You would never be mistreated or unheeded; you would be a queen in your own right, with responsibilities and authority.”

“So you think she should do it.” Clint scowled at him.

“I would never suggest a shield-maiden give up her freedom against her will. All I can say is that it is a great opportunity for Natasha and Midgard, and for the Aesir too. I think she would make an excellent queen. And beyond such diplomatic motivations, I do not like to think of my father being lonely. Our family is…much reduced. Perhaps he truly does seek a wife simply for company.”

“There must be other women Odin could marry that would make more political sense.” Fury said.

“On Earth? You do not have one central government, so choosing between the few monarchies left may cause more problems than it solves. And he does seems set on a Midgardian, asking first your princess and then Lady Natasha.”

“Would she be required to have any children?” Agent Hand asked, voice as flat and disinterested as if they were discussing the weather.

Thor frowned. “I do not imagine she would need to. Father has never expressed any wish for more.”

“But he had you then, and Loki,” Fury leaned on the back of the couch, “And now he’s a king without any heirs.”

The prince looked thoughtful. “Then it may be a condition of your union. I cannot speak for the Allfather, though I am sure if you addressed it with his emissary he would make things clear.”

“You wouldn’t resent me if I said yes?” Natasha’s lip curled, “I don’t 3ant you to feel I’m trying to replace Frigga.”

“I should be delighted to have you as a stepmother, my lady.”

“I think I’m a little young for that.” She smiled.

“Nonsense. You are both beautiful and wise, and fearsome too – as all mothers should be.”

“If I agree to this, I want to know what I’m signing up for,” she got closer, “What else can you tell me about Odin?”

 

Clint found her on London Bridge, gazing out over the murky water below. He leaned on the parapet beside her, squinting at the clouds.

“You don’t have to do this. Who cares if Odin’s king of the alien whatevers? You’re not anybody’s to barter away.”

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

“You haven’t said no either. It worries me.”

“I haven’t made up my mind. Thor’s right, this could huge for Earth.”

“Like you care about intergalactic relations.”

“What’s the matter Clint, afraid you’re gonna miss me?”

“You know it,” he nudged her, “I don’t wanna have to find a new best friend. Took me long enough to find you.”

“It’s just n assignment, really,” she shrugged, “It’s permanent, sure, but it’s not exactly tough being waited on hand and foot.”

“It’s not an assignment, Nat – it’s the _end_ of assignments. It’s your life. You wanna give that up for some royal existence with a dude you don’t even know?”

“Maybe it’s my calling.”

“Going a nunnery is a calling. Marrying the Defender of the Nine is fucking insanity.”

He sighed, rubbing a hand down his arm as he looked away.

“I just want you to okay.”

Natasha wrapped her hand around his and squeezed gently. “I know.”

“Promise you’ll be smart about this – that you’ll put yourself first for once?”

“There are no promises in this business, Barton. They only get you hurt.”

*****

Loki regarded himself in the mirror again. He wore Odin’s finest gold mail and a long white cape, his helm on the bed behind him. It wasn’t a patch on his own form but he was guessing Natasha wouldn’t care – they weren’t exactly doting sweethearts. Somewhere in the palace his bride was being dressed in her wedding gown, attended by the noblest Asgardian ladies and probably hating the whole thing. It was enough to make him snicker.

“My lord,” a guard knocked respectfully, “They are ready for you.”

“I shan’t keep my betrothed waiting then.”

He slipped the helm on and headed for the hall. An honour guard surrounded him, though the corridors were empty with everyone in place for the ceremony. They crossed the courtyards and gardens to a separate structure that stood against the palace walls, the tall columns of the temple rising up above the ramparts, its low curved roof sweeping across like a dove’s wing. Loki stepped through the doors and the heralds blew their horns, the crowd standing to bow as he passed. He barely glanced at the Aesir but quickly spotted Agent Hand and her SHIELD flunkies in a row near the front. He hoped she went back and told Fury all about the splendour of Asgard, never suspecting what they’d left poor Natasha to deal with.

The whole city had been done up more magnificently even than the displays for Thor’s aborted coronation. Everyone in the chapel wore their very best jewels and robes, the warriors’ capes in every colour. He sat on one of a pair of backless thrones on the dais and signalled that he was ready. There was a short interval while they fetched his betrothed, and then the doors opened again and Natasha walked in.

She was unbelievably beautiful in the Asgardian clothes. They’d braided her hair as best they could at its current length, twisting the small plaits up behind her head and topping it with a long veil of gold. The dress itself was a gaudy affair, the sleeves long and trailing and the skirts flowing out into a train that swept along the marble floor. It was white with dense embroidery, whole sections given over to gold and silver vines. It was finished with jewels and a few pieces of golden armour on her upper arms and shoulders. She looked dangerous and delicate and he was supremely glad he’d chosen her over Theodora.

She made her way up the aisle followed by her attendants. When she reached the dais he stood and took her hands. The sorceress chosen to preside over the ceremony stepped between them, her hands clasped before her.

“We are gathered today for the joyous union of our king, Odin Borson, Allfather and Defender of the Nine with his chosen bride, Natalia Alianovna Romanova of Midgard. Such a marriage is a serious thing for our beloved lord and his people. To be accepted into the House of Odin is an honour for any woman, regardless the realm of her birth.”

He could feel Natasha bristling beside him and hid a smile. The priestess beckoned to Lord Finnr and one of the SHIELD men, both holding a sword in a leather scabbard. Finnr’s was stamped with Odin’s raven crest on the hilt while Natasha’s had a spider.

 

“The exchanging of blades represents the protection you extend to one another. From this moment, you will promise your life to the other’s safety and happiness.”

Loki took the blade Finnr held out and offered it to Natasha. She bowed her head and raised her arms for him to belt it on. She took her own weapon from the agent and Loki nodded in acceptance, holding himself so she could put it around him.

“The exchanging of rings symbolises the fidelity and trust you will share, the love binding you together.”

Finnr held out a small gold and diamond band and Loki slid it onto Natasha’s finger, delighting in the way he held her hand so easily when she would have gladly killed him if she’d know who he really was. She returned the gesture and turned to face the priestess, and he wondered what exactly was going through that head. How long would it take him to know her well enough to guess?

“May the Norns bless your marriage with health, happiness and children, and may the people of Asgard find in Lady Natasha a loving and adored queen. You may kiss the bride.”

Loki saw the tiniest tic in her jaw, too small to be noticed by anyone but him and too small for her to stifle. He gently took her face in hand and kissed her, the whole thing lasting maybe a second before he stepped away. The king took her hand and led her to one of the thrones, helping her adjust her sword so she could sit. He waved Finnr forward again and the lord presented him with a golden crown on a cushion.

“Natalia Alianovna, daughter of Midgard, wife of Odin, I pronounce you Queen of Asgard. You are bound to its land and its people, and they to you, from now until Ragnarok.”

He set it gently on her head over the veil and the crowd erupted into applause, with cheers for the queen as Loki sat beside her and took her hand. A herald read out a statement that the marriage was official as the trumpets blared and Loki looked to his new wife.

“It is time to say goodbye to your people.”

“I understand.”

He stood and she followed, leading her down the aisle to mass applause and shouting. They crossed the courtyard outside and into the palace, turning into a small ante-chamber. They were only there for a moment before servants led in Agent Hand and the rest of her party.

“I shall give you a moment.” He bowed his head.

“It’s quite alright, Your Grace. We won’t take long.” Natasha smiled at him.

“All the same, I shall give you your privacy.”

Loki waited in the hall, curious about their conversation but not overly worried. Agent Hand was probably just giving Natasha another run through to make sure she was really prepared to stay here. They weren’t friends as far as he knew, so it wasn’t likely to get emotional. After five minutes the door opened and Victoria walked out.

“Our thanks again, majesty.”

“My thanks to you and to SHIELD for this opportunity. There is a carriage waiting to convey you to the Bifrost. May the Norns speed your journey and keep you safe.”

“Thank you, sire.”

They headed for the waiting horse and sleigh, and Natasha stepped out of the chamber with an expectant look. Loki held out his hand.

“Come, my dear. There are many people anxious to meet you.”

 

He led her on a huge tour of the feast hall, greeting all the nobles and watching her expression as the Aesir poured compliments on her. He could tell the flattery meant nothing, perhaps even grated on her, but she maintained a perfect smile and kept up the chatter, remembering everyone’s name and position as soon as he’d said them. They retired to the head table to share the traditional mead, servants taking the wedding swords and hanging them on the wall behind their chairs where they would stay for the duration of the marriage.

Natasha didn’t eat much but she did it in a way that looked like natural nerves, so no one could have blamed her for rejecting Asgardian hospitality. Her conversation was polite; he could tell she was trying to get some idea of his character, looking for safe topics and interests. He answered broadly and turned the questions back on her, looking to extract the stories she didn’t want to tell him. They weren’t going to get anywhere being well-mannered all the time.

The drinking turned into dancing and singing and Loki started to tire of being glanced at with knowing smiles. Loki extended a hand towards her. “Shall we retire, my queen?”

Natasha took it with careful courteousness. “As you like, Your Grace.”

“You need not use those titles with me. We are husband and wife. That is a good enough address.”

“Alright, husband.”

He stood and she copied, the hall quieting as the Aesir noticed. They bowed in their seats as the monarchs passed, Natasha’s hand light on his as they swept along. She was fitting into the role already, nodding to the watching crowd and holding herself straight and elegantly. Loki bit back a smile, thrilled. He directed her towards his chambers, the rest of the palace empty compared to the feast hall. Outside the city was rowdy with celebration but they saw almost no one other than the guards as they reached the door.

“Wife.” He flourished an arm, holding it for her.

Natasha entered and Loki closed the door behind them, locking it silently with a touch of his magic. She examined the room with its large windows and golden drapes, the runes carved into the ceiling, and the extravagant dressing mirror. The bed was an enormous grand creation, the headboard curving up like antlers, the covers gold satin.

Loki stepped behind her and raised a hand to stroke the curve of her neck. Natasha moved to give him better access and he wondered how many times she’d given herself unwillingly in the name of the job. He felt a tingle knowing he would be the only one to touch her now.

“You did splendidly today.”

“Thank you, husband.”

“I must confess I am curious though. Why did you agree to this?”

“You asked me.”

“I am not a fool, Natalia. I am an old man even if I am a king, and you are young and striking. You must have had other prospects, and I don’t pick you as the type to seek prestige or power.”

“We needed the alliance. It was a good offer, and I respect you.”

“That is good. Respect is important in a marriage. I can only apologise I have nothing more enticing to offer you than this wrinkled frame.”

“Appearances mean nothing in my experience, husband.”

He walked around her, close enough that her skirts brushed his knees. Loki wanted to see how far she was willing to go. He raised a hand, cupping her face as he pressed his lips to hers.

“I hope you learn to enjoy my company, Tasha. In time perhaps you might even love me but I don’t expect miracles.”

She was silent as he stroked a hand along her collarbone.

“Ideally I would not ask you to lie with me until you were ready but as you have surely noticed, I am short on heirs and not growing any younger. It is important for the kingdom that we have a child as soon as possible.”

“I understand.”

His eyes bored into hers. “It doesn’t bother you?”

“It’s my duty.”

 

He saw the determined spark in her eyes for a second. Her duty – yes, to Natasha this was just the next mission. No harder than any of the others and probably a lot more pleasant in some ways. She kissed him, hands flat against his chest, and he chuckled to himself. She really was prepared to lie with Odin, all in the name of what? The greater good? Following orders? The whole thing was too delicious. Her hand drifted lower and he broke away. Loki did not intend to take his new bride with his father’s body.

“Husband?” she frowned, “Is something wrong?”

“No, no, you were wonderful. But I have a confession to make, wife.”

She looked up at him patiently, perhaps expecting he would say he needed more time. Instead Loki let the illusion drop, smiling delightedly as her face fell. Natasha took a step back, treading on the edge of her gown.

Loki spread his arms. “I thought you might appreciate a prettier face to look at.”

She took a shaky breath, clenching her jaw, the surprise replaced by cold hatred. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I’m sure the same could be said for you on several occasions.”

“They said-”

“You should know by now death doesn’t seem to stick when it comes to me.”

“Where’s Odin?”

“Relax. I didn’t kill him, though he deserves it. He’s currently enjoying a taste of exile.”

“And Thor?”

“Has no idea. He knelt before me and renounced his place without ever noticing, like the fool he is.”

“How does this fit into your plan?” she waved a hand at her wedding dress.

“I needed a wife, and you’re so marvellously twisted - almost as deranged as myself. It seemed like a good match.”

He took a step closer, steadying her with a hand at the base of her skull as he ran his nose across her cheek.

“And I was serious about needing some heirs.”

“You’re insane if you think I’m going to sleep with you now.”

“Why not? You were willing to do it for the decrepit Allfather. Why should the truth discourage you?”

“Because you’re a monster.”

“That word can be quite subjective,” he hissed, hands closing around her waist, “I am Asgard’s benevolent ruler and _you_ are my new queen. Far from home, unarmed, out of reach. You are very much mine now, dear.”

“I’m not carrying any spawn of yours. I’ll kill you first.”

“Come now, _wife_ ,” he murmured it against her ear, “I thought it was your duty.”

 

She slammed her arms against his, breaking free. It was only a few steps to the doors but he’d sealed the opening and she couldn’t pry them apart. He wondered for a minute if she would try calling for help but the redhead must have realised that wouldn’t end well because she spun, eyes flicking over every surface for some kind of weapon.

“Tasha, Tasha. I meant it, you know. I don’t want to force you.”

“Go to hell.” Natasha spat.

“Only if you come with me.”

She laughed hollowly, bringing her fists up. “Try me.”

Loki shrugged, making no move towards her. “There are several realities you must accept here, Natalia. Firstly, you have no way of making contact with anyone on Midgard. Secondly, if you try to tell any of the Aesir about me, I have a little charm that will sew your lips together at the first syllable. So here you are, married to the king – my own regal self – with no way of enlightening anyone and no way back to Earth. I think you will agree this puts you at a certain disadvantage.”

“I’ve been in worse spots.”

“I highly doubt that but your obstinacy is adorable. No, you are at my mercy, Natasha. Worse, you are at the Allfather’s mercy. I could claim you committed an act of treason and have you thrown in a dungeon, and no one would question my right to do it.”

“Go ahead then,” she dropped her arms, “If you want to bully me and make it clear I’m out of options, fine. Take what you want like the psycho you are and let’s get on with it.”

“That would rather defeat the purpose of marrying you, don’t you think? You won’t be much company if I give you such a reason to loathe me.”

“I won’t be much company regardless.”

“Here is my bargain, Natalia. In public you will assume your role as Queen of Asgard. You will be a credit to my house, compassionate, warm and graceful. You will give no indication of any discontent between us. And in return I will allow you your freedom to rail at me in private, and vow never to assault your virtue – or what remains of it.”

“Why? What are you getting out of it?”

“Someone worth talking to.”

She stared at him, the silence dragging on. When it became apparent she wasn’t going to reply Loki started shedding his armour. He stripped down to his trousers and kicked off his boots, glancing over.

“Do you require assistance with your dress?”

“You don’t expect me to share a bed with you after this.”

“You are welcome to sleep on the couch but Asgard expects its king and queen to consummate their union. You are not leaving this chamber until morning.”

“How do you know I won’t kill you in your sleep?”

“I don’t. But it won’t get you very far – an instant execution and chaos all round.”

 

Natasha considered him and then the bed, taking the crown from her head as she crossed the room. “Untie me.”

“As you wish, wife.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“It’s what you are.”

“Officially maybe, but never when we’re alone.”

“As you like.”

His fingers wrestled with her laces, tugging them through the eyelets gently. He opened it down to the base of her spine, spreading the back until she could slide it off. Natasha stepped out of the flowing fabric in just a chemise, walking over to the mirror to take the many pins out of her hair. Loki threw the dress over a chair and slid between the covers, watching interestedly as she undid her braids and placed her jewellery on the dressing table with distaste. Natasha looked around and spotted a blanket at the end of the bed, dragging it over to the couch.

“You can share with me, you know. I won’t bite.”

“I’d rather sleep in a ditch.”

“Please yourself.” He rolled over, dimming the lamps with a wave of his hand. He could hear her getting comfortable and couldn’t help smiling at her stubbornness. She was taking it well though – he had no doubt there were a million schemes blossoming behind that blank face but she was sensible enough to see there was nothing to be done right away. She’d play along until she thought she had an opportunity.

“Good night, Tasha.”

She huffed scornfully and he grinned again. This was already fun.


	2. Chapter 2

Natasha didn’t sleep. She wasn’t crazy enough to trust Loki’s word that he didn’t have any ill intentions, and she needed to think. What did she know about Asgard? Who could help her? She didn’t doubt what he’d said about sealing her lips together was true, so asking the Aesir directly was out. But she didn’t really believe there was _no_ way to contact Earth. If she could get a message to Thor, he’d be stampeding up the Bifrost before she could say ‘dysfunctional family’.

She had to assume Loki would be keeping a close eye on her for at least a few weeks, expecting her to try something. She’d have to play along with the queen act until then. He was too clever to think she’d just accept the situation but she wouldn’t give him any reason to doubt her. It might be hard to get alone time for the next couple of days but eventually he’d have issues to address, things that required the Allfather’s presence. Would he let her sleep alone after tonight? He’d said he was only keeping her here so people would think they’d consummated the marriage; would he give her space after that or did he want to make it look like they were trying for heirs?

She’d tell him it would make more sense for them to sleep apart. Odin was supposed to be grieving, and Natasha didn’t really know him. It would be acceptable for them to take some time before they started trying for children. And the time apart might give her a chance to find a way to break his illusion and expose him to the whole court.

She was stunned to find Loki was actually sleeping, his breaths slow and untroubled. Did he really trust her not to harm him, threats or not? When the sun rose she clasped her hands over her stomach and closed her eyes, deepening her own breathing until it seemed like she might be sound asleep. It wasn’t long before the light roused him, the god yawning as he shifted on the bed. She would have felt better if she could see him; he moved lightly on his feet like a cat, making it hard to track his position in the room. She could feel a shift in the air to her right and then a long-fingered hand closed over her shoulder.

Natasha sat up, hand gripping Loki’s throat as if he’d actually startled her. He froze, face amused as she took a breath and stared at him, not letting go.

“I regret I must wake you,” he smirked, making it clear he hadn’t fallen for her act, “But the handmaidens will think it strange if you are not in our marital bed when they come to dress you.”

Natasha tightened her grasp just enough to make a point and dropped her arm, standing. “We wouldn’t want anyone to think the queen is repulsed by Odin, would we?”

He moved out of her way with a mocking bow. “Think of the damage such an idea would do to his credibility.”

She went to the side that hadn’t been slept in and tugged the covered back, climbing in. She mussed the pillows a bit to make it look more rumpled and sat back.

“When can I expect these handmaidens?”

“Presently. No rest for those with the burden of a crown.” He sang teasingly, going to a wardrobe in the corner. He pulled on a white shirt and gold jacket, body changing to Odin’s as she watched. Now that she knew about the illusion she could spot the flaws; even if he had spent his whole life studying the king’s gestures and bearing, something of Loki still slipped through at times. Or maybe it was just because they were alone and he felt safe.

Loki turned and bowed deeply. “My queen. I shall see you at luncheon.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Duties, wife.”

She thrust her tongue against her teeth as he left, the door closing with a hollow echo.

 

Natasha sprang out of bed, doing a quick search of the room for anything useful. It was just a bedroom though, with a few sets of clothes and some decorations in the small sitting area. She couldn’t expect Loki to leave vital spellbooks or maps lying around where she might see them. She moved to the window, looking out into a courtyard she didn’t recognise from her first visit.

The door opened and her head shot up. Three Asgardian ladies entered, apparently surprised to see her out of bed. They wore long dresses in the pale gem colours the Aesir seemed to prefer: deep teal, steely grey and dusty red in this case. Their hair was braided up or secured in gold nets, and they were all young, blonde and lovely. One held a wooden box with a bronze handle and another had a large covered basket.

“Your Grace?” the one in grey frowned.

“Oh. My lord woke me when he left.” Natasha smiled.

“Ah. We’ve come to help you dress.”

“What happened to the ladies from yesterday?” she thought back to the older matrons who’d laced her into her wedding gown under Agent Hand’s watchful eye.

“They were selected for that honour due to their lineage and position. We will be your ladies-in-waiting from now on. I’m Lady Magnhild, and these are Lady Kori and Lady Guðríðr.” She pointed to the one in red and the one in teal respectively.

“It’s good to meet you.” Natasha tried a regal nod.

“No, it is our honour to serve you, Your Grace.” Lady Kori ducked her head to hide a shy smile.

“We have brought some dresses for you to choose from, if it pleases you?”

“Sure. Where do you need me?”

“Where you are is fine.” Magnhild grinned as the other two put their bundles down on the short dressing table. Guðríðr opened the basket and pulled out a pale blue gown with flowing ruffles hanging from the shoulders. Kori lifted out a purple dress with silver flowers embroidered around the bodice, the sleeves long and tight.

“The purple, I think.” Nat pointed.

They moved smoothly like cogs, Guðríðr putting the blue dress back while Kori held the purple one for Nat to put her arms through, Magnhild helping pull it down. Kori tugged it straight as the other woman laced her up, hands gentle as they drew the bodice tight. Guðríðr offered her a tray of polished silver jewels and Natasha picked a pair of long earrings, steering clear of the cuffs and chokers. They reminded her a bit too much of slaves’ chains.

“If you’ll sit, my lady, Kori can dress your hair.”

She took a seat at the vanity and the blonde opened the wooden box to reveal an array of hair brushes and ornaments. She combed out Nat’s curls with care, hands moving nimbly through the complicated braids of the Aesir.

“What happens after we’re finished here?” Natasha asked, looking at Magnhild in the mirror. She seemed to have a good idea what was going on and Nat needed to know how rigorously her days were scheduled.

“We shall accompany you to breakfast, and then to your new chambers. His Majesty has ordered you be given a few days to settle in before you start meeting the nobles and the important guildsmen. I believe he wants to spend the hours after luncheon with you.” The woman looked down, as if whatever her sovereigns did in private was none of her business.

So there was some wiggle room. Breakfast and their tour wouldn’t take that long. Maybe she could ask for a look around the palace in general and see if there was anything in library that might be helpful.

Kori set two broad silver combs in her hair and stood back. Natasha had to admit she looked like a queen in the over-the-top outfit.  She dreaded what Clint would say if he saw her playing consort to the maniac who fucked with his head and tried to kill them all. There would be a lot of outrage and swearing, and then probably some broken bones.

“Let’s go to breakfast then.” She smiled amiably, the image stuck in her mind.

 

The queen’s chambers were noticeably lacking the heavy gold and marble influence of the rest of the palace, replaced instead with dark woods and deep green fabrics. Natasha admired the view from her new balcony and frowned.

“These aren’t Queen Frigga’s rooms, are they?”

The ladies looked at each other uncomfortably. “No, my lady,” Kori said delicately, “The Allfather commanded new chambers be prepared for you.”

She wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or not. It explained the difference in the decor. She imagined Loki’s old quarters, wherever they were, looked much the same. She had some comfortable sitting areas and a big bed and a wardrobe full of dresses and jewels. There were weapons too, though they were mostly decorative by the look of things.

“Can we take a look around? I feel like there’s still so much I haven’t seen.”

“Your Majesty is free to go where she wishes.”

“Anywhere?” Nat raised her brows.

“Unless the Allfather requests his privacy, yes.”

“Let’s take a walk.”

The ladies took her through endless halls of state rooms and guest rooms and armouries and kitchens. It took an hour before they found anywhere interesting since Nat didn’t want to ask specifically in case they were reporting back to Loki. They came to a deserted hall with very thick stone lattices across the windows, two guards on duty outside an enormous golden door.

“What is this place?”

“The weapons vault. King Odin stores dangerous relics here, like the Casket of Ancient Winters.”

“Can we look inside?”

The blondes looked at each other. “It is generally frowned upon for anyone not of the royal family.”

“Surely if I order you to accompany me, it’s alright.” She smiled.

“I guess so…” Kori made a face.

They walked up to the guards, who didn’t even stir from their posts as Natasha opened the door and headed down the short steps. The vault was one long gallery of items, all of them magical from what she could see, with a glowing blue box at one end in front of a wall of light. She didn’t know what any of it was but she moved from niche to niche, memorising as much about the weapons as she could. If she found the texts to figure out how to use any of them, she wanted to know what was at her disposal.

She felt a twinge when she saw the Tesseract; that could definitely get her home, if she had a device like the one that brought Loki and Thor back to Asgard. Was it dangerous having the cube in Loki’s power again? What was stopping him from handing it back to the Chitauri or someone worse? Or maybe he had no reason to give it up now he wasn’t getting a planet in return.

“I’m afraid it’s all a bit meaningless to me,” she grinned at the noblewomen, “Shall we carry on?”

They sauntered along, people stopping to bow their heads as she passed. It was a strange feeling to be automatically trusted and admired because she had a piece of metal on her head and a ring on her finger.

“Magnhild, tell me. Has Odin been different since the queen’s death?”

She frowned. “He has been terribly sad, I think, and lonely. But surely that is to be expected.”

“Oh of course. I meant has he been making any strange decisions in his official business? Has he been particularly violent or short-tempered or cruel? Dismissive of the common people maybe?”

“No, my lady. Since the Dark Elves attacked, the king has done everything in his power to look after us and undo the damage, both materially and morale-wise.”

“You don’t think it odd he let Prince Thor go when he seems to need him most?”

Guðríðr shrugged. “The Allfather is wiser than us normal folk. We must trust he knows what he is doing.”

She continued on thoughtfully. She would have expected him to make more use of his power by now but it made sense for Loki to lay low and not do anything outrageous or notable while his cover was still fresh. And yet he’d married her, which wasn’t exactly discreet.

 

They reached the library and Natasha gaped, staring at the walls of books. There was more information here than she could have hoped for.

“Are all the books Asgardian?”

“Oh no Your Grace, they are from everywhere, except those realms whose inhabitants are not versed in literature.”

“Like who?” Nat took one off the shelf, flipping through the pages idly and stopping when she realised the pictures moved.

“Jotunheim, Muspelheim, Niflheim. Those places without civilisation.”

Natasha bit back an annoyed look. She couldn’t vouch for the truth of Kori’s statement but from what she understood of Loki’s mental problems, it was exactly that attitude that had caused them. Maybe if the Aesir were more open-minded she wouldn’t be stuck here now.

“Is this your alphabet?” she pointed to a rune.

“It’s the runic script of Asgard, yes.”

Great. How was she going to find anything useful if she couldn’t read?

“It is nearing luncheon, Your Grace. Shall we accompany you to your meeting with the Allfather?”

“That would be most helpful, thank you.”

Magnhild, Kori and Guðríðr escorted her to a smaller dining room, huge murals carved into the stone of the walls. Most of them seemed to be burly Aesir wrestling enormous creatures: there was a wolf and a serpent, and a large horned creature armoured like an armadillo. Loki sat at the table, food already spread over the cloth. It was too much for them to eat but she suspected the real Allfather had an appetite as big as Thor’s. Natasha’s ladies pulled out her chair and laid her napkin over her lap, retreating to stand by the wall. She didn’t like having them out of sight but even in a society of warriors she doubted the handmaidens were capable of taking her down.

“You look radiant.”

Natasha pursed her lips, conscious of their listeners. She tried to convey her scorn with eyes alone. “Thank you.”

“How was your morning, my lady?” Loki gave her the smuggest grin she’d ever seen, including Clint and Stark.

“Educational.” She said, hoping to provoke a reaction.

He raised a brow but didn’t comment, carving off a slice of what she hoped was ham and placing it on her plate.

“And your ladies? Are they attentive and companionable?”

“They’re wonderful.” She pitched her voice so the women could hear.

“Good, good. They are from the best families. You shall be acquainted with their parents in time.”

“How has your day been so far, Your Grace?” Natasha tilted her head as she helped herself to stewed vegetables, “Not too tiresome, I hope?”

“Oh the usual trials and complaints, but I find myself relaxing already thanks to your excellent company.”

“You flatter me, my lord.”

“Come, tell me your thoughts about your new palace. I’m sure you’ve had the full tour by now.”

She took another bite to stall. So he knew she’d been exploring. Well it wasn’t much of a stretch with what he knew of her; he would probably have thought it more suspicious if she hadn’t been looking around.

“It’s very impressive. There’s nothing like it on Earth.” The redhead said honestly.

“We have the benefit of possessing many years to work on such projects. Did you like your chambers?”

“I can tell you put a lot of effort into making them comfortable.” She pressed her lips together.

“I want you to feel at home, wife.” He smiled slyly.

She debated saying anything and decided the best time to do it was in front of people, where he couldn’t refuse without looking odd. “Husband, I did have some concerns about the difference in language.”

“Oh?” Loki raised his brows.

“Could someone give me lessons in reading Asgardian?”

“You wish to learn runes?” he said, voice higher than usual.

“It seems a shame to waste a library like that. And just think of all the information at my disposal.” She gave him a hard look.

Loki’s gaze flicked momentarily to the handmaidens and he smiled. “Of course. We’ll organise a tutor for an hour or two every morning.”

“Thank you.”

“Do not be afraid to ask me for anything you desire.”

“I will.”

 

They finished eating in polite silence, glancing at each other occasionally. When they’d cleared their plates Loki sat back, waving a hand at the noblewomen.

“I wish to be alone with your mistress. You may await her in her chambers.”

“Sire.” They curtsied, hurrying out. The door closed and Natasha threw her napkin on the table, folding her arms.

“You did that well.” He snickered as soon as their audience was gone.

“You asked me to keep up appearances, remember? It’s my speciality.”

“Ah, so you are deep cover then?” he laughed, “I suppose you would treat marriage like a mission.”

“Tell me what I should find romantic about it.”

“I think I’ve been a good husband so far,” he steepled his fingers under his chin, looking at the ceiling pensively, “I have provided servants and gowns, jewels and a fine palace, the best food and genteel conversation. I have not taken advantage of my conjugal rights. I fail to see how I could improve.”

“You could let me go.”

Loki huffed reproachfully. “You know better than that, Natalia.”

He stood and offered a hand that she pointedly refused. The god sighed.

“Don’t be difficult.”

“There’s no one to perform for in here.”

“But we aren’t staying in here.”

“Where are we going?”

“Odin Allfather thinks his new bride might like a view of the palace from the ravens’ tower.”

“And what does Loki Liesmith think?”

He practically purred at the nickname. “That tactically you’ll want a full understanding of its layout, and that no one will overhear us there.”

“I suppose I don’t have much of a choice.”

He curled his lip. “Don’t make it sound like such a chore. We’re just two spouses, getting to know each other. Nothing sinister in that.”

Natasha placed her hand on his arm, gathering her skirts so she wouldn’t step on them. Loki was tall but in Odin’s form he was much bulkier than her too, wide and muscular despite his age. She’d need to spend more time studying him to see how Loki’s weaknesses and strengths interacted with Odin’s, in case she got a chance to take him down.

They ambled through the halls, servants and nobles alike bowing as they passed. Natasha got that same sick feeling in her throat she had after New York. She didn’t deserve to be touted as a hero and she certainly wasn’t worthy of the worship given to a queen.

They took several flights of stairs, following the halls in what seemed like an aimless loop until they reached a black iron gate with an eye surrounded by ornate scrollwork. Loki pressed a hand to the knob and it swung open.

“After you, my dear.”

“You first. I insist.”

 

There were even more stairs, spiralling up forever. Nat focused on her breathing and cursed the heavy dress – velvet wasn’t the most practical material when you had a lot of it. But eventually they reached a doorway at the top and stepped out onto an observation deck, and she forgot about being puffed.

Asgard fell away beneath them on all sides, the houses that clung to the rising peaks of the mountains clearly visible, the high spikes of the palace stopping level with their feet. There was a roof overhead and a gold bannister all the way around, with two large protrusions like perches.

“For the ravens?” Natasha asked.

“Yes. Though they at least see through my disguise,” Loki scowled, “They haven’t come near the place since the first day I came up here.”

“I’m sure you’ve got other ways of getting information.”

“I do, but it’s a shame. I have a certain fondness for tradition.”

She moved closer to the rail, staring down at the city. Loki kept his distance, leaning on a column.

“What do you think?”

“It’s breathtaking.”

“There are more splendid places in the nine realms but this one is quite fine, I must agree.”

She spent another moment soaking in the view before running a more practical eye over the city; cataloguing the various roads and routes in and out, the gates, the palace entrances. She could see the Bifrost leading off into the distance but it wouldn’t do her much good unless she could convince the gatekeeper to disobey his king and let her go.

“What did you bring me up here to chat about? Or do you just naturally drift towards secret places?”

“I wanted to talk.”

“We could have done that anywhere – if I was interested in anything you have to say, which I’m not.”

“We cannot talk openly down there. Here is easier.”

She shook her head. “I still don’t see why you think I’ll make any kind of attempt to entertain you. You said yourself last night you expect me to curse you out when we’re alone.”

“I think you’ll talk to me for the same reasons I want to talk to you – you need someone you can be open around just as much as I. The noble ladies of Asgard aren’t much good for discussing the things related to your old work, and they know nothing of Midgard except what they learned in tales. If you want to talk about being _Natasha_ and not just the Allfather’s wife, I am all ears.”

“I couldn’t care less for your opinion.”

“Ah but you will,” he smiled, “Everyone gets lonely.”

She eyed him sharply and turned away again, hands clutching the rail. “Not me.”

“Never? Not even after Barton cracked open your many layers-”

She turned, throwing a fist into his jaw. Loki’s head cracked back and he straightened, grabbing her wrist as she struck again. She turned on the spot, kicking him savagely in the side. The god seized her by the shoulder, slamming her back against the pillar.

“Now what was that for?” he hissed.

“Don’t. Don’t ever mention him to me again.”

“Careful, Tasha. Your weak spot is showing.”

“You have no right to spout back the things you tore out of his head.”

“And you say I like secrecy.”

She glowered at him and Loki released her, stepping back.

“Fine. Barton is off-limits. I guess that means you’ll have to tell me all the stories first-hand instead.”

She sighed and straightened her dress, moving to the rail again. “I won’t.”

He shrugged. “Give it time. You’ll get bored soon enough.”

*****

They spent the rest of the afternoon strolling through the gardens in silence to further the impression that they were talking. When the bells in the city started to ring, Loki stopped.

“We should change for dinner. There is a veritable bevy of feasts planned to welcome you over the next few days, but I promise after it calms down you can dine alone with your ladies every night if you please.”

“Why do you care?” she frowned, “You could order me to eat with you three times a day and I wouldn’t be able to say no.”

“I want you to feel you have some respite from my company. It might make you more inclined to be civil when we are together.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

He laughed. “I think you’d love to see me blue in the face.”

“Depends on the cause.” She said flatly.

His jaw stiffened. Loki looked around and summoned a servant with a wave. The boy ran over, bowing deeply.

“Escort Her Majesty back to her rooms.”

“Right away, Your Grace.”

Natasha twitched a brow at Loki when the boy wasn’t looking. He stared back, hands clenched at his sides. It was a good reaction to remember. She needed to store up every piece of ammunition she could find. He stalked off angrily and she bit her lip, going over everything she knew about him from Thor and comparing it to her own assessment.

“My lady?”

The voice snapped her back to the present. “Thanks. Lead the way.”

She followed the Aesir to her rooms, even though she knew the way by now (as well as two alternate routes). Magnhild, Kori and Guðríðr were sitting in her parlour sewing what Natasha guessed was a gown for her. It was a strange fabric that shimmered like fish scales, changing between silver and a pearly green depending on the light.

“Loki.” She muttered so quietly no one could hear it. He seemed enthusiastic about surrounding her with his colours, and she wasn’t sure if it was to mark her as his or so he could enjoy them vicariously.

“Aren’t there seamstresses for that?” she asked.

The trio jumped up and she stilled them with a hand, the blondes slowly sinking back to the sofa to continue working.

“There are. They made all the gowns in your wardrobe. We’re just making some adjustments based on your measurements that would have been indelicate to ask before the wedding.”

“The king requested I change for dinner. I understand there’s a feast?”

Kori nodded. “Some ambassadors are here to see you.”

“A moment, my lady, and we’ll help you into this.” Guðríðr held up the sleeve in her hand.

“No rush.” She wandered to the balcony, biting her thumb. Loki had cut off her access to humans and supposedly enchanted her against Aesir, but would she be able to tell these outsiders the truth?

“How was your afternoon with the Allfather, my lady?” Magnhild said lightly.

Nat looked over her shoulder. The three of them appeared to be concentrating on their stitches but she knew they were all dying to hear how it went. They weren’t as guileless as they seemed.

“Very pleasant. We visited the ravens’ tower and walked through the gardens for a while.”

“It is good to see you getting along.” Magnhild smiled.

Natasha pursed her lips. She wasn’t so sure about that.

 

When they’d laced her into the dress, the ladies accompanied Natasha to the banquet hall. As they entered a horn blared and it took everything she had not to flinch as thousands of eyes turned on her. All this attention was seriously wearing on her.

Loki stood before the main table with a trio of figures in fine clothing. One was tall and waifish, his long silver hair drawn back in a ponytail, his tunic a shimmery blue. She could see his ears tapered to a point at the top. Next to him was a man who had to be a dwarf, swarthy and stocky with a silver crown and armour that moved like silk. The last ambassador was a woman so lovely even the Russian had to catch her breath, her long hair hanging over one shoulder in a thick braid, her dress a matching yellow-gold. They all shared a common air of importance.

“Ah, my lady,” Loki waved her over, taking her hand, “These are the envoys who seek to make your acquaintance. Prince Brokk of Nidavellir, Lord Áki of Alfheim and Lady Idunn of Vanaheim.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Your Grace.” Áki bowed.

“Likewise.”

“Odin Allfather has made a fine choice.” Idunn’s eyes twinkled as she looked between them.

“As usual.” Prince Brokk barked a laugh.

“We look forward to dealing with you in future.” the elf said.

“Please accept this gift in celebration of your nuptials.” Brokk held out a flat square box.

Natasha glanced at Loki and he nodded encouragingly. She lifted the lid on its hinges, gasping. It was a necklace and earring set, magnificent gold set with rubies in a pattern like lace. The craftsmanship was phenomenal – no one on Earth could have managed the intricate folds and spiderweb-like threads.

“Thank you, Your Highness. It’s amazing.”

“Alfheim sends its blessings too.” Lord Áki offered her a thick tome. Natasha leafed through the first pages but she couldn’t understand any of it. The pictures were wonderful though, gilt with gold and silver and moving on the page.

“I’m sorry...what is it?”

“Your Grace is unfamiliar with the text?” he frowned, looking at Odin.

“Her Majesty is yet to master the runic tongue but I am certain she will appreciate the stories in the future.”

“Of course. They are legends, my lady. Tales of Odin’s forefathers and the Nine Realms.”

“That’s very thoughtful. I look forward to reading them.”

Idunn folded her hands before her. “I have promised the Allfather that our gift will be a surprise.”

“Oh. Well thank you in advance.”

“Our best wishes go to you and your house, my lady.”

“Come, let us eat. There will be time for talk later.” Loki guided her towards the main table.

 

The food was as good as ever but Natasha barely noticed, focused as she was on her next move. She needed to tell one of the representatives that Odin was actually Loki but she wasn’t sure who the best person was. Who would believe her? Who would be offended enough by the truth to make a scene here in Asgard’s own palace, surrounded by the Allfather’s warriors? Prince Brokk looked like he could handle himself and he might have a temper, but Lady Idunn was theoretically safe from any violent reprisals and was sitting next to Nat. Most importantly, would telling them achieve anything if they couldn’t make Loki drop the illusion and show everyone the truth? She might end up in the dungeons for her trouble.

“How did you come to meet the king?” the Vanir asked, holding her spoon delicately above her bowl.

“I accompanied Princess Theodora on a visit to Asgard.”

“And caught his eye, it seems. I don’t blame him for changing his mind.” She wrinkled her nose cheerfully.

“You don’t seem surprised that he remarried so soon after Queen Frigga.”

Idunn sighed, looking at her plate. “I knew Her Majesty well. She was peerless amongst our people, a born queen. But Odin is without an heir since Thor’s departure. He is old, as old as his father was when he handed down the crown. We of the other realms understand his urgency.”

“Thor might come back.”

The lady made a dismissive gesture that Nat thought was a more well-mannered version of a shrug. “None of us think it likely to happen any time soon. He is young and headstrong. If something happened to Odin – the Norns forbid it – he might be persuaded to return but the king can’t rely on that.”

She decided to test the spell’s limits. “Loki-”

Her breath caught mid-sentence, lips slamming shut.

“Loki is gone. Poor boy.” Idunn shook her head.

She forced her mouth open. “They thought that once before, didn’t they?”

The noblewoman eyed her curiously but nodded. “Oblivion is not like death, my lady. Prince Thor saw it with his own eyes.”

“He was good with illusions though.”

Idunn dropped her voice, eyes flicking to Odin on Nat’s other side. “There is no illusion that can fake a spear through the chest, unfortunately.”

Natasha was about to correct her when pain shot through her lips. The skin fused together and whatever she did, she couldn’t pry them apart. Her tongue started to swell, so heavy she couldn’t move it. Idunn didn’t seem to notice. Nat clenched her fist under the table until her nails bit into the flesh. Loki placed his hand over hers, leaning closer until his mouth was against her ear.

“Shall I let you choke on your own tongue? A terrible allergic reaction on the second night of our marriage - the realms will be dripping with sympathy for me.”

She tried to ignore him but it was quickly becoming apparent that it wasn’t going to stop growing until she did really choke. Would someone notice then that the cause was magical? It probably wasn’t worth dying to find out.

“Will you behave?”

She gave a small nod. Loki squeezed her hand and the spell faded, Natasha hiding a grateful gasp in her goblet. So she could talk about him as long as she didn’t mention him in the present tense. That was good to know. Loki didn’t seem upset at her attempt. Natasha didn’t think he’d be capable of hiding his anger completely so she took his good mood at face value. Maybe he thought it was funny that she’d tested him.

 

The feast was in full swing, the warriors trying to behave but Nat could tell the second they were dismissed they’d be out wreaking havoc in the taverns. Loki looked over and smiled.

“I am afraid I must retire.”

“Do you want me to accompany you?”

His brows rose a fraction. “If it pleases you.”

She thought about it. She could stay and try to find a way around the spell, which seemed likely to end up with her either suffocating or getting dismissed as crazy for doubting the Allfather. Or she could go with him and ask some questions.

“I don’t think queens are allowed to socialise with their people anyway.”

He stood and the hall fell quiet, people ducking their heads respectfully as Nat took his arm. They murmured their goodbyes and wandered out, the talk starting up again as soon as they were through the door. Her attendants followed at a respectful distance, forcing Nat to stay silent until they were at Loki’s rooms.

“Ladies,” she smiled, “Will you wait for me in my rooms? I need a moment with the king.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” Kori said, the trio branching off towards the queen’s chambers.

“Have you decided to take to my bed after all?” Loki smirked.

“You brought me to Asgard to talk, right? So let’s talk.”

He waved her in and she sat on the pearly white sofa, arranging her dress comfortably. Loki sealed the door with his locking spell and slipped out of Odin’s features, his smile much more at home on his own face.

“What shall we discuss, my little spider, hmm? Your tongue’s already gotten you into trouble once tonight.”

“You didn’t seem to mind.”

He shrugged. “I expect you to fight me. To push. It suits me for you to learn that it won’t get you anywhere.”

She chose not to comment on that. If he wasn’t going to get angry with her, she wasn’t going to stop trying. Let him think it was useless; all she needed was one opportunity.

“Did you like the ambassadors? They all commented on how radiant you are.”

“They seem to think we’ll be breeding like rabbits before long.”

“Will we?”

“What do you think?” she deadpanned.

Loki shrugged, pacing the sitting area slowly. “I don’t see why not. Kings need heirs.”

“That is not happening.”

 

The god paused with a sigh, looking her over with an expression bordering on exasperation. “You know it doesn’t have to be like this. I am committed to being a wise and just ruler. You could stay at my side and give up these notions of going home. I could even argue you’d do more good here, with the resources of the crown behind you.”

“Why would I want to give my life up for you?”

“You were willing to do it for the Allfather.”

“He was the king.”

“And why shouldn’t the same be true for me, hmm? Why are you so determined I shouldn’t keep this throne?”

“It’s not right.”

He sneered. “I seem to recall you telling me regimes fall every day. Why should Asgard be different? Odin has been king long enough.”

Natasha looked down, voice cold and quiet.  “You don’t deserve to win after what you did on Earth.”

He moved closer, leaning in to see her face. “Is that how you really feel? I imagine once upon a time you would have applauded my efforts to conquer, regardless of the cost.”

“I don’t write human lives off so easily now.”

“And why not? Because your precious Hawk taught you to have a conscience?”

“Shut up.” She seethed.

“The Red Room told you everything you did was for the good of the Motherland, and that was true. Barton told you you’d been brainwashed into doing impossibly cruel things, and that was also true.”

“Don’t say his name.” Natasha snarled.

“You can’t tell me there haven’t been moments since your defection where you wondered why the people around you _cared_ so much. Why they didn’t take the most efficient routes to getting what they wanted.”

“If you think you can convince me not to care about what you’re doing to Odin and Thor, you’re mistaken.”

“Yes, Odin and Thor - let’s talk about them, shall we? The baby-snatching liar and the selfish prince who has run off to Midgard to be with Jane and left his recently-widowed father alone without an heir. What does he expect, that Odin will live forever simply because it’s convenient? If you are angered by my cruelty, consider where I learned it.”

“This isn’t a case of the lesser evil. It’s about what’s right.”

“Why should you care? You’re not even Asgardian!” he threw his hands up.

“Neither are you!”

Loki’s gaze narrowed. Natasha could see deep crimson bleeding into his irises, frost hanging in the air from his breath. She tensed herself for an attack but he walked away instead.

“You’re right, I’m not. Good night, wife.”

He walked into the bedroom, the door slamming shut behind him.

 

Natasha frowned. It wasn’t like Loki to give up halfway through an argument. She tried the main door and found it was unlocked. She headed back to her chambers, thinking. Was he really so desperate for company he thought he could persuade _her_ of all people to stay in Asgard and what, fall in love with him? At least bear his children. There was a weakness there she could use. He might say he picked her to be malicious but it didn’t change the fact he wanted her, mentally and physically. She supposed she was a challenge.

The ladies were waiting to undress Natasha when she walked in. None of them so much as blushed or giggled despite what they had to assume about her wanting to be alone with Odin, and once again she noted that these were not women to be on the bad side of – you’d never see their response coming. They helped her into a soft linen nightgown and dimmed the lamps, bundling up her dirty things.

“If you need anything, Your Grace, we sleep in the next chamber. Ring and someone will be here right away.”

“Thank you.”

“Good night, majesty.”

“Good night.”

They filed out, closing the door behind them. Natasha inspected the frame but she couldn’t see any sign of a lock. Presumably Loki didn’t want her being able to keep him out. She wandered to the bedroom and got under the covers, not really tired but figuring it looked less suspicious if someone came in.

Nothing added up. If Loki wanted her for sex, he could have forced her the first night. If he wanted her for the novelty of tormenting her, ditto. Maybe he thought rape was too crude for his talents but it seemed like he did want a proper wife, someone who would be nice to him and share his secret and listen to his complaints. After all, his first choice had been Theodora. He’d only picked Nat because she happened to be around. Yet he couldn’t expect her to _ever_ give him what he wanted, so picking her made no sense.

Perhaps he thought he could wear her morals down and make her more like the person she’d been when she met Clint, someone who wouldn’t care about him usurping the king, someone who would disregard the way he’d hurt the other Avengers. Good luck to him, she huffed. She wasn’t going to change her mind.

*****

When the ladies came to dress her in the morning, they brought news.

“His Majesty has found you a tutor, if you’d like to start lessons.”

“I would, yes. Can we start right away?”

“If it pleases you.”

“Then I’d like to get into it after breakfast.”

Kori nodded. “I’ll send word.”

They went through the morning routine. Here in her own chambers she had dozens of dresses to choose from. Nat went for a burgundy gown with a shawl and a belt hung with gold chains. She didn’t mind the way the Aesir mixed metal with their fabrics. It made her feel a bit more guarded against surprises.

The ladies escorted her to the library and Natasha groaned internally. If she was ever going to slip away she’d have to find ways to ditch them – she wondered if Loki had considered that when he assigned them to her. Though as queen she had a right to go pretty much anywhere, so there wasn’t a huge need for sneaking around. Yet.

“You might as well take the day off,” she told them when they’d reached the doors, “After this I have lunch with the king and then he’ll probably want to spend more time together. I can find you again when I need to change for dinner.”

“Yes, my lady.” Magnhild curtsied, the others following.

When she entered the room there was only one other person there, a tall older Aesir with greying blond hair and glasses, the first Asgardian she’d seen that didn’t have perfect vision. He wore an open waistcoat over a tunic and trousers, and he smiled when she approached.

“Your Grace.”

“Good morning. You’re the tutor?”

“Geirr, my lady. King Odin says you are looking to learn to read runes?”

“Yes. I wanted to make the most of all these books.” she waved a hand at the towering shelves.

“Don’t worry, it will not take long to learn.” He gestured at the seat beside him.

She sat and he pushed a stack of blank parchment between them, opening one of his books to a page of runes set in a grid that she figured was the alphabet. Geirr lifted his quill and pointed to the first shape.

“Each rune has a name that comes from its sound, but you must put them together to make actual words.”

That made sense; it was similar to some of the Asian languages she’d studied. “Alright. Do they have Latin equivalents or is it a different system?”

“I think it is like the Latin alphabet, yes, though we have a few less characters. If a word has three letters, it shall have three runes.”

Nat nodded, leaning in to get a better look. “Alright. Tell me the names.”

 

They worked on her penmanship until she could draw and name all the characters perfectly. Then Geirr gave her a simple book and showed her how the shapes worked together without the punctuation she was used to. The grammar was slightly different, more like the formal speech the Aesir preferred, and some sentences had to be read back to front to make sense. By noon she could read a few pages by herself, though writing anything was still a challenge.

“Very good, majesty. You will master it in no time.”

She glanced outside. “I’d like to continue but I have to see the king. Can we pick up tomorrow, same time?”

“As you wish.” He ducked his head.

She took the book they’d been using and left, directing her steps towards their private dining room. Loki was already there, and he’d had the table moved closer to the windows so they could enjoy the warm breeze.

“Good day, my love. How was your morning?”

“Educational.” She smiled in an echo of the day before.

“Your tutor was pleasing?”

“He’s great. Very patient.”

“Watch out,” Loki grinned, “I might get jealous.”

“How is that any different from your normal state?” she said innocently.

He laughed. “Don’t make me insist your ladies chaperone.”

“I’m not going to seduce my tutor. The last thing I need is to give you a publicly acceptable reason to get rid of me.”

He helped himself to more vegetables as she spooned some porridge into her bowl. A servant entered with a flagon of wine and poured for them both, Loki nodding dismissively. He left and she shook her head.

“I bet it just kills you that no one knows how clever you’ve been.”

“Why do you think I married you?” he grinned.

“Tell me, how does it feel knowing they only bow because they think you’re him?”

His smile turned sardonic. “How does it feel to be watched everywhere you go and expected to behave like a lady?”

“It sucks.”

He laughed at her honesty. “I may have inherited their respect, but I keep it with my own actions. I will be a better king, and if I need this charade to make it possible, it is a small burden to bear.”

“You know after the whole Stuttgart/New York debacle, I didn’t picture you as someone who understood what was needed to be a good king.”

“I have studied Odin’s habits for centuries. I know his strengths, and now his weaknesses. I can avoid making the same mistakes.”

“Can you avoid being yourself?”

He smiled whimsically. “We shall have to find out.”

 

They finished their meal and Loki wiped the small traces of food from his beard, picking up her book where it lay on the table.

“ _The Tales of Bor, King of Asgard_. A great fiction.”

“He certainly sounds larger than life.”

“He was. His feats eclipsed even Odin’s, because he was actually as good as they say.”

“Did you ever meet him?”

Loki shook his head. “He was long dead by the time I was born.”

“It’s weird to think the stories in here are from before humans reached any kind of civilisation. You guys were running around fighting each other and casting spells when we were still living in caves.”

“Your society is pathetically slow to catch up, though you’ve been making progress lately. And with Stark hard at work, I imagine you will soon level with the lesser realms,” he tapped the cover, “Would you like to practice your reading?”

She frowned. “I thought you wanted to keep me out of the library.”

“If that was the case I wouldn’t have given you a tutor.”

Natasha shrugged. “I’d rather practice with my ladies.”

“They have no experience of Midgard – how will they be of help? Come,” he stood, moving his chair beside hers, “Show me what you’ve learned.”

He had a point. She picked up the text, opening it to the first page, and started to read. “In the time of the...darkness, Bor, son of Buri and king of Asgard, went into the realm of the...”

“Dark Elves.”

She glanced at him and he nodded to continue. “And...pierced?”

“Thrust is a better translation.”

“Thrust his army against their king? Leader,” she corrected herself, “Like a blade. That’s a bit of an obvious simile.”

“The Aesir are not known for their poetry.” Loki snorted.

“Just army thrusting.”

He snickered. “Now you know where Thor gets it from. Keep reading.”

She glanced at the page again and thought about his comment. What had it been like for Loki as a child, reading these stories he couldn’t relate to? What was it like to know from such an early age that you don’t fit in? She’d never had to worry about that. Red Room’s children were all the same, trained under the same rules and procedures. Was Loki snatching Odin’s crown a sort of half measure between the force he thought he should show and the deception he was best at?

“Who did you want to be like as a child?”

He frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“I guess Thor wanted to be like Odin. What about you?”

He looked away. “Do you know why Frigga taught me magic, and not Thor?”

 

She raised a brow at the jump in conversation but shook her head. “No.”

“She taught Odin everything he knows. It would have made more sense to pass the knowledge on to Thor if he was to be king someday.”

“I don’t see Thor being patient enough for magic.”

“It’s true; his hotheadedness would have caused many accidents. But she taught me because she knew I would never be able to match Thor and Odin for greatness. I was not as interested in glorious combat, I was not as likeable. I needed something to set me apart so I might feel less inferior, and even then my sorcery earned me much ridicule.”

“But if Odin practices magic, why would anyone look down on you for doing the same?”

He gave a very dry smile. “Ah, but Odin is the king. It is excusable for him to use everything at his disposal to protect his people, even a womanly art like sorcery. And he is a proven warrior too, so there is no question of him cheating in battle.”

“That seems stupid. If you can win a fight before it even happens, you should do whatever it takes. Are the Asgardians so obsessed with their warrior code that they can’t see the practical aspects of magic?”

“I believe, dear Natasha, that is the entire problem.”

Once again she had to wonder what Loki’s earlier life was like. Always on the outskirts, overlooked, mocked for the things he was good at because they weren’t the ‘appropriate’ things. It seemed like a fairly shitty environment to grow up in.

“I don’t blame you for resenting this place.”

He looked surprised. “No?”

“No. They sound like the worst kind of agents I’ve encountered – all brawn and no brain, but they think they’re perfect.”

He laughed, more sincerely than usual. “And how do you deal with those sorts of agents?”

She smirked. “I take them down as quickly as possible and punch a huge hole in that ego.”

“Natalia, if you were not my queen I would unleash you on the unsuspecting warriors and sit back to watch.”

“I might enjoy that.”

He gestured to the book. “Go on. Keep reading, and perhaps when you have a better handle on it I will find you some books that aren’t so parochial.”


	3. Chapter 3

The next day was the same. Natasha spent the morning with Geirr working on her studies, had lunch with Loki, and then read through the hours until dinner. She found books were one area where they could talk without it becoming an argument; Loki loved knowledge and history, and Natasha liked to have as much information as she could. He gave her a stack of texts that were still basic but written by people from other realms, giving her a more rounded-out vision of Asgard.

The morning after that she awoke to find her handmaidens laying out a more practical dress than usual, a brown leather ensemble with breeches under the skirts and layers that reminded her of Loki’s armour on Earth. They were all wearing much thicker, plainer dresses too.

“Are we going somewhere?”

“His Majesty thought you might like to ride through the city today. Lord Finnr has volunteered to be your guide.”

“It sounds good.” Natasha didn’t really care; whether she was studying with Geirr or touring the city she was still taking another step towards a possible plan.

They helped her dress, lacing up the many pieces of the outfit expertly. She frowned.

“Is there a risk we’ll be attacked?”

“No, my lady!” Guðríðr gaped, “No Aesir would think of such a thing.”

She scanned their faces, noting the way the other two avoided her gaze. “But your last queen wasn’t killed by Aesir.”

“Your Grace-”

“It’s fine, Kori. It pays to be careful when you don’t know if there are enemies about.”

She gave Natasha a grateful smile. “You needn’t worry, my lady. We’ll have guards with us.”

“Can I get some blades?”

“Blades?” Magnhild frowned.

“Daggers, small and thin?”

“My lady, you can trust the warriors to protect you.”

“I’d feel better if I had them. You must understand how it feels having others watch over you like a helpless child. I’m sure the king will approve if you need to ask him.”

Guðríðr and Kori looked to Magnhild. She nodded.

“We’ll fetch some from the armoury. Ladies?”

They scurried out and Magnhild stood at Nat’s shoulder, fixing down the last few stray curls.

“Forgive them, my lady. They do not mean any offence. They forget that Queen Frigga defended herself when she needed to.”

“I wish I’d met her. She sounds like an amazing woman.”

Magnhild smiled at her in the mirror. “She was. You remind me of her, if Your Grace doesn’t mind me saying so.”

“How?”

“You are both strong, and capable. It has been three days and already you are showing an interest in your new realm. You are learning our script and spending time with the king. The Allfather’s mood is much changed since your arrival.”

“For the better?”

“Of course, my lady.”

“I’m nothing special, really. Just trying to get a handle on things.”

“Well we are grateful for it. Now, would Your Grace prefer slippers or boots?”

 

Once she’d chosen some knives from the massive selection Guðríðr and Kori brought her, they made their way to the stables. She hadn’t been here yet and the smell of hay and horse musk was overwhelming. The animals were beautiful though, and as the ostlers saddled their mounts Natasha walked along the stalls admiring them. She came to a large white steed with a shining mane and looked down, raising her brows at his extra legs.

“He is Sleipnir, the Allfather’s steed.”

She turned and studied the man. He’d been dressed up at the wedding but today his clothes looked sensibly comfortable, his face kind as he smiled. He didn’t seem surprised by her weapons, which earned him some good will in her books.

“Have you ever seen the king ride him, Lord Finnr?”

“Indeed, though we were both much younger then. I hope Your Majesty doesn’t mind my impertinence, forcing my company on you?”

“Not at all.”

They wandered towards the entrance, her eyes drifting over the horses.

“Have you ridden much, my lady?”

“Not really. I learned a long time ago but Midgard is a bit past the horse and carriage stage.”

“Then we will take the easy routes.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

They came to the main group. Natasha’s ladies were already mounted side-saddle, looking very dainty. Lord Finnr led her to a beautiful smaller gold mare and Natasha grinned, offered her hand to sniff before stroking her cheek.

“You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you?”

“May I offer my assistance, my lady?”

“Yes, thank you.”

She grabbed the saddlehorn and put a foot in the stirrup, jumping as Finnr lifted her by the waist. Nat swung her leg over, getting the skirts a bit tangled when she sat. She took a moment to get them out from under her legs and took the reins from him.

“You’ll be alright?”

“I think so, my lord. Perhaps you should stay close just in case.” She winked.

He grinned and mounted a large, broad brown horse that looked like it could hold the weight of an Aesir. With the ladies and Finnr ready, the lord’s servants fell in around them. The palace guards formed a loose perimeter and they headed for the palace gate.

 

The road into the city sloped down gradually, tall walls lining the path at first and then giving way to expensive-looking houses. Lord Finnr nudged his mount closer.

“These are the homes of the nobility, passed down for generations.”

It explained the way the buildings seemed to flow out into different wings – clearly the Aesir had expanded as needed until their homes created a many-branching sprawl. She could see servants tending to courtyards and gardens and stables but none of the nobles themselves.

After that district were the guildsmen’s homes. There were structured more vertically compared to the large area of the nobles’, but they were thicker with decoration and colour.

“Do they save all the best work for themselves?” she joked to Finnr.

“The guild leaders control much power and respect in Asgard. We may not have the reputation of Nidavellir’s smiths but the things we make are fine and strong, and without the guilds there would be much confusion in the barter of goods.”

They reached a buffer zone between the wealthy homes and the more ordinary, a large marketplace arranged around a circular plaza. She could see more shops along the roads that led out the other side. Here every Aesir that noticed them stopped and stared, bowing very low as they passed. Natasha’s hands tightened on the reins and her mare shied with a complaining whicker.

“Can we dismount?” she asked Lord Finnr.

“You wish to see what is for sale?”

“And speak to some of the people, if I may.”

She expected him to protest but instead he smiled. “It is a gracious request, my lady.”

He drew up and jumped out of the saddle, giving Natasha his hand to steady her as she lifted her leg over and slid off. Finnr offered his arm and she took it. The ladies dismounted and clustered close behind her, the guards parting to let them pass but still within arm’s reach.

They walked to the nearest stall and Nat let her eyes sweep over the many baskets of what looked like seeds or nuts, though she didn’t recognise any of them. The shopkeeper was an older woman with a kerchief tied around her hair and a simple brown wrap dress, her eyes bulging a little as she stared at the queen.

“Good morning.” Natasha said in her most welcoming voice.

“Good morning, Your Grace.” The woman jerked forward into a curtsey so low she practically stuck her head in a basket.

“What is this you’re selling?”

“Bulbs, majesty. For the garden.”

“But they’re so small!”

“Creepers mostly, majesty. They don’t need much to get them started.”

“How has business been since the Dark Elf trouble?” Natasha asked casually, “I don’t imagine many people are thinking about their landscaping at the moment.”

“Some of the nobles got a bit of damage to their estates, majesty, but most of the fighting was done up at the palace. The common folk are still planting as much as ever.”

“Have you anything that will live in a pot?”

The woman bent her head and scrounged through the seed pods, holding up a small bluish-purple one. “Alafander, Your Grace. It’s very bright.”

“Beautiful,” Lord Finnr nodded in agreement, “There is nothing like a field of it, all glistening like glass.”

Natasha pursed her lips and turned to Magnhild, whispering. “Do I have any money?”

She frowned. “You do not have to pay, my lady.”

“It’s the right thing to do.”

“His Majesty will give you as much as you need.”

She doubted that. If Natasha had money she might be able to bribe people. Surely Loki wouldn’t be that trusting.

“Your Grace,” Lord Finnr touched her elbow, “Allow me to give it to you as a wedding present.”

“Thank you my lord, but I insist you let me repay you when we get back to the palace.”

“As Your Grace commands,” He bowed, opening his purse, “We will take a handful of the alafander, good woman.”

 

They moved slowly through the stalls. Sometimes Natasha stopped to ask about a vendor’s wares, usually the things she didn’t recognise or anything that had been hand-crafted, and took the chance to quiz them about Loki as subtly as possible. Everybody seemed pretty happy. Even though it had been only a few months since villains from their old legends had swooped in and attacked Asgard for the first time in centuries, killed the queen, destroyed the Allfather’s throne – even after their faith had been shaken they still trusted Odin. They were content. The king had been doing everything in his power to smooth their way back into normality and peace, and he seemed to be succeeding.

Natasha was surprised again. She hadn’t expected Loki to be playing the role of Odin quite so well. It was more than just his behaviour in public; it was the choices he was making that actually seemed to fit what everyone expected from the king.

They were running out of shops when a rider with a packhorse on a lead made his way through the crowd towards them, stopping next to Lord Finnr.

“His Majesty has suggested you take the queen for luncheon in the woods beyond the city.”

Natasha could feel the others looking at her. “How thoughtful.”

“I will gladly accompany Her Grace. Give that halter to Jerrik there.”

The messenger handed the lead rein to a servant and bowed, turning back towards the palace.

“It will be easier if we ride, Your Majesty. Shall I assist you?”

“Thank you.”

They remounted and formed up again, the guards eying passers-by warily. The group headed for the gate and Natasha held her breath. Why would Loki give her a chance to slip away from her watchers like this? Did he truly think she wouldn’t escape if the right moment came up?

They rode down the winding path into first tree-lined avenues, and then farms and cottages that turned into thick forest. Natasha could see the edge of the great sea that separated them from the end of the world, waves lapping at the shore. They headed deeper into the mountains and came to a hillside that dropped away from the road, the ground covered in thick grass and very red flowers. The view stretched across a lake to the city on the other side.

“It’s amazing.” Nat said.

“We’ll set up here.” Finnr waved a hand at the servants to start laying out their blankets.

In less than five minutes they were seated in a loose circle on the ground, the guards arranged in a square but far enough away that they didn’t intrude, the servants back by the horses. Natasha let Magnhild serve for her while Kori poured them mead, flicking a strange insect off the folds of her dress.

“How long have you known my lord?” she glanced at Finnr.

“All my life, Your Grace, though I have only become close to him in recent months.”

“Oh? You weren’t friends before?”

He bit the corner of his lip. “The Allfather does not really have friends. But it was I who suggested he marry again, and I think he is pleased enough with you that some of the favour has rubbed off on me.”

“You suggested he marry,” she looked at him sidelong, “He didn’t come up with it on his own?”

“He was grief-stricken, my lady. All I did was point out the practicalities of taking a wife to comfort him and provide an heir.”

She restrained an urge to choke him. It wasn’t Finnr’s fault her husband was Loki. “Yes, it’s a shame Prince Thor prefers to spend his time on Midgard.”

“I know our young ladies are disappointed,” he winked at her handmaidens, “We had hoped he would find love closer to home but Odin understands such an attachment.”

She looked out over the valley, voice light. “I’ve heard some stories about Prince Loki too...how Prince Thor and his friends helped him escape so they could defeat Malekith.”

Lord Finnr grimaced. “It is a pity the prince took so long to show his loyalty, but we mourned him all the same for his sacrifice.”

“What happened to the warriors that defied Odin? Were they imprisoned?”

Finnr shook his head with a smile. “No. How could the Allfather punish them when he let Prince Thor go free? While they may have broken his laws by releasing a royal prisoner, Malekith was beaten and Lady Jane’s life saved with Loki’s help. Odin was lenient.”

Natasha thought it would have made more sense if Loki had locked them up, since they’d be the first to suspect a trick from him. “People don’t hate him for what he did?”

“Of course. But a man’s deeds must be weighed equally, and he did much good as well as evil in his time.”

She wasn’t sure about that but she took another sip of mead without saying so, eyes on the view below.

 

By the time they meandered back to the palace it was mid-afternoon. Natasha had the ladies run a bath to wash the dust and sweat of the ride off, soaking until her fingers went pruney. Leather was not conducive to long hours on horseback and she felt like she’d been baked in an oven.

Natasha thought about the things she’d seen and heard. The Aesir were lovely when they weren’t being so pompous and war-hungry. Watching the lower classes talk and the children play she’d seen that just like on Earth, noble ideas belonged to the nobility and their underlings saw the real way of things. And their blind belief that the Allfather could weather anything and keep them safe was astounding. She’d never found a society that truly had no doubts or resentment for their leader. It was as if Odin was as much a god in Asgard as he was on Earth.

The biggest surprise was that Loki wasn’t abusing it. He wasn’t a tyrant. Until that morning she’s assumed the only thing stopping him from exposing himself and taking control of the warriors to rule in his own name was the fear of Thor finding out. Now she thought he might actually want to be loved more than obeyed, and he was using Odin’s rapport with the people to do it. He actually seemed to care about them.

She hadn’t thought Loki could care about anyone.

“Your Grace?” Magnhild walked in.

“Yes?”

“His Majesty sends his apologies but he is deeply immersed with his council. He will not be able to sup with you.”

“Oh. Aren’t we supposed to be having another feast?”

“His Grace has postponed it. He thought you might be uncomfortable without him.”

Natasha sat up. A chance to talk to more nobles without Loki? “No, I should learn to talk to people without him. Tell whoever you need to that the feast is still on.”

Magnhild gave her an admiring look. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“And ask Kori and Guðríðr to show me some gowns for tonight.”

She wanted something attention-grabbing. There was an idea forming: if she could charm some of the younger warriors into giving her information, she might be able to call on them later if things got nasty. Surely they’d protect their queen, even from her own husband. Wasn’t that part of their whole chivalrous code?

The two blondes came in with a large white leather-bound book. Kori pulled up a stool and sat beside Natasha, holding it open as Guðríðr turned the pages. The redhead leaned on the edge of the tub and studied the colourful images of her wardrobe, trying to find the right look. It should be alluring but not trampy, and as Asgardian as possible. She wanted to remind them who was in charge.

“Keep going.” She waved a hand at Guðríðr.

They flipped through a few more pages and Natasha grinned.

“That one.”

“This, my lady?” Kori raised a brow.

It was pale blue, the back high and stiff behind her shoulders and leaving them bare to wrap across her torso. It left her arms exposed as well, tight around her waist and tapering out into a trumpet shape with long sheets of silver chainmail layered over the skirts. The whole thing was very formidable. Natasha nodded.

“That’s the one.”

 

When she walked into the feast hall alone, all conversation died. The Russian gave her best regal smile and took her seat at the main table, ladies beside her. When still nobody moved, she glanced at Magnhild.

“What are they waiting for?”

“They want your blessing, my lady.”

A blessing? Did they mean she should say grace or that she should give permission? Maybe it was safer to do both.

“Right,” she stood, hands on the edge of the table, “My lord the Allfather and I thank you for your continued service and loyalty. We pray that you enjoy our hospitality, and that the Norns bless and keep you.”

“Long live the queen!” a warrior raised his tankard.

“Long live the queen!”

She sat and Kori smiled. “You were perfect, Your Grace.”

“I guess I’m starting my official duties then.” She said as servants carved for them.

“His Majesty said to start you slowly until you have a good grasp of Asgard and its customs and language. He has arranged a visit for you tomorrow with children orphaned by the Dark Elves. You will present alms from the palace for their upbringing.”

She could certainly do that. “I’d love to.”

They ate, the ladies providing a bit of gossip about various people in the hall for her. She wanted to ask more pointed questions, like who was in charge of the palace guard, but she wasn’t sure how much they reported back to Loki. He’d said he expected her to push but she didn’t need him to know which direction she was looking.

Natasha motioned for the servants to keep her companions’ glasses full, hoping that they’d relax a little bit. She waited until they seemed a bit redder in the face and tapped Magnhild’s hand.

“I want to meet people.”

“Are you certain, my lady? Most of the warriors are not of any particular note.”

“They fight for His Majesty and the realm. I want to know their names and faces.”

“We can have them approach you...” Kori looked around for someone to summon.

“I’d rather move around while I digest. Come on.”

They couldn’t object to that, standing to follow her as Natasha scanned the room for someone promising. There was an older Aesir with a heavy mail tunic under his jacket, even at this late hour, and a necklace with an insignia she didn’t know. He had gloves tucked into his belt and fresh scars on both cheeks. She made her way to his chair, waiting with her hands clasped before her. The warrior’s neighbours stared at her for a moment before bowing respectfully, nudging him so he turned.

“Your Majesty.”

“Good evening, friend. Your name?”

“Lord Eiríkr, my lady.”

“I hope you don’t think I’m being too forward but I couldn’t help noticing your scars. I was interested how you got them.”

“It is not a tale for ladies, Your Grace.”

“I’d like to hear it.”

 

Eiríkr turned to the young fighter beside him and waved a hand. “Give your seat to the queen!”

He moved hurriedly and Natasha smiled, sitting. Eiríkr rubbed a thumb along one particularly large mark under his eye.

“I command the Allfather’s palace guard. We were attacked by The Accursed’s men.”

“I heard there were great losses for the Aesir.”

He sighed. “Yes. Our young men had not been tested by Svartalfheim weaponry since King Bor’s time. We were helpless against their dark power.”

“How did you fight them off?”

“Their leader fled before Prince Thor’s mighty hammer. Had he not happened upon Malekith in the queen’s chambers, they may have killed more in their quest.”

“I suppose you’ve been working to replace the soldiers you lost?”

“There are many willing to lay down their lives for the royal house and its treasures, myself included.” He said seriously.

“It’s comforting to know we’ve got such solid men on our side. There’s so much out there I don’t know about yet.”

“Never fear, Your Grace. Asgard can face anything.”

“Thank you for your time, my lord.”

“I am always at your disposal, majesty.”

She stood and moved up the line of the long tables, nodding and exchanging a few words when people went out of their way to greet her. Natasha was looking for a certain kind of person though, the youngest, bawdiest Aesir. She was passing a group to her left when a woman in armour stood.

“My queen,” she laid a fist over her heart and bowed, “I am Lady Sif.”

“Thor’s friend.” Natasha said.

“Yes. You know him?”

“We fought together in New York.”

Sif gave her an appraising look and seemed to like what she saw. “You are a champion of Midgard then. Odin is fortunate indeed to have such a wife.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Would you do us the honour of sitting for a moment, Your Grace?”

“Of course. Any friend of Thor’s is worth getting to know.”

They made space for her and she sat, ladies at her back as Sif took the spot beside her.

“This is Volstagg, Fandral and Hogun.”

“My lady,” the blond bowed low over the table, “We are positively charmed.”

Bingo. “Thor says great things about you. And I heard from Agent Coulson that you made a bit of a splash in New Mexico.”

“With the Destroyer,” Volstagg laughed, “Ha, a great battle!”

“And you helped Thor and Loki escape to Svartalfheim?”

The big man’s laughter died as the friends exchanged an apprehensive glance.

“Uh...we did, Your Grace.”

“Don’t look so worried. His Majesty chose not to punish you, and I’m certainly not going to do it. From what I hear your actions saved lives, including human ones.”

“They didn’t save Loki’s.” Hogun muttered.

“His death was only the conclusion the Allfather wished for in the first place.” Sif said through clench teeth.

“But he did his duty when Thor asked, as a prince of the realm should.” The quiet man held her gaze.

“Is Loki the only one who knew the ways between worlds?” Natasha asked.

“As far as we know,” Volstagg rumbled, “Or else Thor would not have gone to him at all.”

“Other sorcerers might do it, but we are not aware of their existence. Heimdall has always said it was only Loki who could escape his gaze every time.”

“So the Bifrost is the only way in and out of Asgard now?”

Fandral gave her a strange look. “The Bifrost and the Tesseract, yes. Unless someone rediscovers the paths.”

“Then how did the Dark Elves get in?”

“They flew.” Fandral shrugged.

“Will you tell me about it?”

 

Natasha walked into her rooms with an internal sigh. As much fun as Thor’s friends had turned out to be, they were no more helpful than anyone else she’d spoken to. Natasha had plenty of new names for the people in charge of the palace and its gates, the army commanders, the head palace servants. But no one could tell her if Asgard had any vessels capable of passing between realms or even how to navigate between them, and not one single Aesir took her flirty bait. They kept their eyes on her face, they addressed her respectfully, and even when they were playful in their answers they suddenly feigned disinterest when she pushed further. It seemed she was off-limits. That might make getting out a bit harder.

Her women undressed her for bed and she waved them out, running through her mental map of the palace and city, and everything she knew about Loki’s path to Svartalfheim. Fandral hadn’t seen exactly where it was but she didn’t really want to go there anyway, since she’d only be stranded in a dead world on the other side. The alignment was over and the portals were closed. She needed a direct route.

She’d just fallen asleep when nearby movement woke her, hand seizing the dagger from under her pillow and lunging forward. A lamp flicked on as Loki grabbed her wrist, lips pursed tightly.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?”

“I hear you were charming tonight.” He released her.

“Just playing the part.”

“I think it was more than that. Did it bruise your ego when you realised you were untouchable, Tasha?”

“Why don’t you do us both a favour and drop dead?”

He laughed. “Aw, poor Natalia. You’ve always been able to twist men into doing whatever you wanted, haven’t you? But humans never have to fear the wrath of the Allfather.”

“In my experience men will do anything, no matter how stupid and dangerous, when their dick’s involved.”

“But Odin has a watchdog who can see anyone, anywhere, anytime, and Heimdall does not take treason lightly.”

He disappeared, taking the light with him, and she swore violently, falling back on her pillows. So much for that then. Even testosterone-laden young bucks like the Aesir weren’t suicidal enough to face certain discovery and death for a roll in the hay.

*****

Her first official visit to the orphans went well, despite a brief moment where Natasha realised she’d never really held a child before and stared at the baby in her arms with utter panic. As her grip of runes improved she was handed more and more: attending ceremonies and blessings in Odin’s place, receiving ambassadors and gifts, hearing complaints from the household and handling the arrangements for their festivities. She was used to being obeyed when she snapped an order but this was insane – Natasha could have told them to build a tower that brushed the clouds and they would have immediately asked what colour brick she wanted.

It also kept her busy. She started to think that was Loki’s plan, to bog her down with so much that she never had time to plot against him or try an escape. She was always surrounded by at least half a dozen people, guards or servants or companions. She felt like she was wasting her talents picking tablecloths and writing thank you notes, but at least they weren’t asking her to dote on Loki in public. She wasn’t sure she could manage that.

Whenever Natasha had a spare moment, she spent it in the library. She read every text on Asgard’s layout and structure until she knew the sewer tunnels by heart. The magical texts made little sense to her but she continued to hunt down descriptions of the objects in the Weapons Vault, hoping there would be one even a Midgardian could wield. She watched the guards and learned their routines, she read everything she could find on both Jotunn and Aesir weaknesses and anatomy, and she looked for anything on Heimdall’s powers with no success.

She’d been in Asgard about a month and a half when she found a book that spoke about the Lifeline formula. It was a substance that could transform its user into the most superior member of their race, godlike and immortal. Nat figured a half-sized Jotunn sorcerer wouldn’t outmatch the fastest, strongest human in the universe – in theory she’d be like Hulk, and he’d certainly pounded Loki into oblivion. She scanned the page for more details and came across a picture of the formula’s source, a large jagged rock engraved with runes on a narrow base. She’d seen that before.

Natasha left the library and headed for the lower levels, taking a few longer detours to throw off anyone that might come looking for her. She reached the weapons vault and nodded to the guards, walking in as if she belonged there. She glanced at the various relics until she found it.

“The Tablet of Life and Time.”

There were complicated runes carved over it, ones she didn’t recognise, enough to make the words incomprehensible. If she could get some paper and charcoal down here she could make a rubbing of the pattern and find a way to translate it. She touched the stone to see how heavy it was and there was a loud clunk at the end of the passage.

Natasha looked up warily as the far wall rearranged itself, slotting backwards into the light until an enormous metal creature stepped out, its eyes glowing with fire.

“Shit.”

It opened its mouth and she flung herself aside as flames scorched the wall next to her head. Natasha ran for the stairs, zigzagging and cursing the vault for being so narrow and her skirts for being so damn heavy. She put a foot on the stair and the Destroyer melted the stone out from under it, sending her tumbling. She scrambled to her hands and knees as it clunked its way closer, not sure where to go.

Loki appeared between her and the automaton, a hand raised. “Stop.”

 

The machine’s mouth closed and it ground to a halt, staring at him curiously.

“Sleep.”

It turned and walked back to its home, the wall closing around it again. Loki turned his head very slowly to look at Natasha on the floor.

“Do you care to tell me what exactly you touched, or shall I have to guess?”

“I wasn’t touching anything.”

“You were almost killed!” he barked, “Do not try to lie to me.”

She pressed her lips together. “I thought the royal family could touch what they liked.”

He smiled coldly. “In the past perhaps, but you may have noticed the king is no longer on good terms with his relatives. I altered the Destroyer so it responds only to me. No one else, not even Odin himself.”

“Seems risky. How would you have explained my death to your nobles?”

“It would be a small price to pay for my continued freedom.”

“Some husband.” She sneered.

“I can’t afford to take chances, Tasha. The punishment I suffered for my last treason would be _nothing_ compared to what Odin will do if he returns now.”

He offered a hand to help her up and she ignored it, pulling herself to her feet and dusting off her dress. “You’d deserve it.”

“You think so.” He said flatly.

“You banished a king into exile and stole his face. I’m pretty sure that’s a no-no.”

Loki plastered a huge fake smile over his features, grabbing her by the shoulder and turning her towards the door. “So sorry to squash your latest escape plan, my dear, but I think you see that the vault will be no help to you.”

“I won’t stop trying.”

“Oh I don’t expect you to. Perhaps you should warn me when you’re about to make an attempt though. I can’t always pop up and save you last minute.”

“I think that would defeat the purpose.”

“Exactly! Why not just give up on the whole thing and settle into your place here?”

“Because I like being able to face my own reflection. When was the last time you could look at yours for longer than thirty seconds?”

She lifted her skirts and hurried up the stairs, leaving him there looking almost forlorn.

 

If she couldn’t use what was in the vault then the Tesseract was out, and Nat’s only option was the Bifrost. She didn’t expect Heimdall to let her pass without asking the king’s permission first, which meant she needed to wait for the right excuse.

She paid careful attention to everyone who passed through the Bifrost for the next fortnight. The only people who went out were Aesir on missions for the Allfather, and no one came in except nobles from other realms. Even if she disguised herself she’d need to find someone with a valid reason to go to Earth who would willingly cover for her, and no one lied to Odin except Thor’s friends – and only because Thor had asked them to. They did seem to like her since she was the prince’s shield-sister and the queen but she doubted they’d cooperate even with a direct order.

Unless she could fake Loki’s permission. If she could tell them it was _his_ order, they wouldn’t think twice.

Natasha wandered into Loki’s rooms to find him at his desk, pen scratching against a large parchment. She leaned over his shoulder, eying the careful way he shaped his runes and pleased that she understood all of it.

“Working so late? You should rest, husband. You are advanced in years.”

He scowled at her. “What brings you to my chambers, wife?”

“I thought it looked good for our marital harmony,” she whispered next to his ear, “I’m curious, is this your handwriting or Odin’s?”

“Odin’s.”

“It’s part of the illusion? Like muscle memory?”

“No. I have been forging his script for centuries.”

“You would.” She rolled her eyes.

“Unless you are going to help me or stop being a distraction, I think our marital harmony can wait for another night.”

“Fine. Don’t say I don’t make an effort.” She sauntered out.

Natasha waited until she knew Loki was in the reception hall the next day and slipped into his chambers, scanning the desk for any forgotten scraps or half-finished letters. She found a crumpled draft and pocketed it, looking for the raven seal he used on all correspondence. She found it but there was only one. She’d have to sneak back in here and stamp it once she’d perfected the letter.

The redhead hurried back to her rooms and drafted up the order, first in English then in runes and then finally in as good a copy as she could of the Allfather’s hand. It was a copy of a copy but she felt like it was passable. She started to plot how exactly she was going to get one of Thor’s friends alone.

 

“Lady Sif.” Natasha smiled as the woman entered her chambers.

“Your Grace,” she bowed, “You asked for me?”

“Let us take a walk.” She didn’t trust Loki not to eavesdrop on her rooms, whether it was magically or through the servants.

“Alright.” Sif looked confused but waited as Natasha draped a scarf over her distinctive hair and followed her out.

“Here.” The spy handed her the fake order as they headed for the main entrance.

Sif read quickly, scanning the page before she looked at Natasha. “His Majesty wishes me to accompany you to Midgard?”

“I must have an escort and I can’t very well go unchaperoned with one of the men. Think of the gossip.”

“I know all too well.” She rolled her eyes.

“I hope you don’t mind if we leave immediately? I haven’t sent word to my people since the wedding and they’re probably worried.”

“Of course. I shall fetch us some horses.”

“Discreetly, if you please. The last thing we need is people whispering I am running away from His Majesty.”

“I swear I shall tell no one of our purpose.”

Natasha wandered through the gardens idly as Sif prepared their mounts, the two women meeting outside the stables. Natasha swung herself into the saddle and the warrior woman followed suit, the pair riding through the gates without incident. They made their way slowly through the city. Natasha was grateful Sif didn’t draw too much attention from the locals; with her hair and face mostly hidden they went unrecognised until they reached the Bifrost, galloping down its length as the sun set behind them.

They reached the observatory and Sif dismounted, helping her down. The rainbow light was as stunning as the first time, Heimdall tall and steadfast at his post.

“Heimdall,” Sif called, “We need you to open the path to Midgard.”

“The Allfather has commanded I open it for no one without a direct order.”

“We have it.” She held out the paper.

Heimdall took it and scanned the runes quickly, studying the seal for a long moment. His eyes jumped to Natasha and she tried to look as unassuming as possible.

“It is a small entourage for one so important, my lady.”

“It’s only a quick visit. I just need to give a message to my friends that everything’s well here.”

“Perhaps it would be better if Lady Sif carried the message for you. These are dangerous times.”

“I can handle myself, my lord Heimdall.”

“But think what Odin would do to me if I let you through and some misfortune befell you.”

“Gatekeeper, we have an order from Odin himself,” Sif frowned, “I do not understand your reluctance to follow it, especially with your queen before you.”

“It is because she is my queen that I am cautious. I think it best if you carry the message, Lady Sif.”

“The Allfather will be displeased when he hears of this disobedience.” Natasha scowled.

“If he is displeased he may tell me so, and I will not make the same mistake again.”

“My apologies, Your Grace, but Heimdall has a point. You are too precious to risk on such a simple errand.”

Natasha looked between them and tried to relax her features. “Fine. You can take the message, Sif.”

She fished out the completely innocent note she’d written to Clint in case anyone asked to see it, wishing now that she’d thought to use one of their codes (though they didn’t really have one for ‘my husband is a traitorous psychopath pretending to be his own adopted father’). Sif took it and bowed.

“I shall deliver it with all speed.”

Natasha smiled at them both and mounted up, racing back towards the palace and choking down a scream as the Bifrost flashed behind her. Loki was waiting in the hall by the stables when she got back.

“A good try, my dear.”

Natasha shoved past. “Bite me.”

 

If she couldn’t get away then she had to expose Loki. If she could make him reveal himself in the middle of the feast hall or throne room, the warriors would attack him without her having to say a word. She retreated back to the library to find something that would let a non-magic user see through an illusion.

There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. You had to have magic to even be able to sense it in others, let alone create something that would break their spells. She skimmed through every book on illusions they had and then went back through all the general magic books she’d already read. Natasha even dipped into the warfare and strategy texts in case there was advice on fighting sorcerers. The only way you could defeat them was generally with the use of an item like those in the vault, but she couldn’t touch those without a fiery, fiery death.

Could she lure another sorcerer or enchantress to Asgard and get them to expose Loki? If they could sense the illusion they might pry all on their own, again skirting around the fact she couldn’t just tell them the problem.

“Are there any other magic users in Asgard?” she asked Kori as the woman folded the blankets on her sofa.

“Only Odin Allfather. Frigga and Loki are gone, Amora is banished and Lorelei fled in the jailbreak during Malekith’s assault.”

“That’s it?” she frowned, “No one else?”

“Sorcery is more of a Vanir art.”

“Like Lady Idunn.”

“Yes.” She smiled.

Lady Idunn, who’d sat two seats away from Loki and not picked up on the spell. Natasha felt her plan deflate.

“Why the interest, my lady? Were you hoping to learn?”

“Not really. I just wondered.”

“Well Odin is the last _seiðrman_ of Asgard.”

She bit her lip, not sure if she should push her luck. “If a sorcerer dies, do all their spells come undone?”

Kori looked up, lip stuck out thoughtfully. “I am not certain, my lady. I believe if it is a spell with a real, physical aspect to it – like say, turning a mountain to rubble – it cannot be reversed. But illusions and enchantments, love spells, that sort of thing should fall away.”

So if she killed Loki, they wouldn’t find her over the body of the Allfather but his criminal son instead. Hypothetically. There was promise there – after all, killing people was what Natasha did best.

 

She didn’t try to get Loki alone or go to his chambers. He would have been immediately suspicious. Instead Natasha waited for him to come to her, figuring it wouldn’t be long before he got bored and lonely and needed to bug her for kicks.

She watching her ladies sew and trying not to think of all the things she’d rather be doing (practicing with her knives, riding as fast as she could down the forest road, watching paint dry) when Loki strolled in, hands behind his back.

“Good afternoon.”

“Husband.” She inclined her head, staying calm even as her pulse picked up.

“Your Grace.” Her ladies stilled, needles in mid-air.

“Is this a bad time?” Loki smiled.

“It’s never a bad time. Ladies, you’re dismissed until supper.”

They tidied up their equipment, bundling the fabric into a basket as they swept out. Loki sat at the end of the couch closest to Natasha, crossing his legs nonchalantly.

“You look like you are about to fall asleep.”

“Genteel activities like sewing and arranging flowers aren’t exactly my idea of a good time.”

“There are plenty of training yards in use.” He teased, eyes twinkling.

“Who’s going to spar against the queen? They’re afraid of me getting so much as a scratch.”

“You could always take a bout with me,” he leaned in, “I won’t go easy on you.”

She glared at him. “I’m aware.”

Loki sat back, drumming his fingertips on the arm of the couch. “Surely you don’t think I’m any threat to you? If I wanted to kill you, Natasha, it would be done. I only wish to keep you safe and happy and a credit to my house.”

“Safe?” she snorted, “Happy? Do you even understand what that means?”

Loki looked down at his lap, straightening his tunic. “Not personally, no.”

“If playing Odin isn’t giving you your jollies why do you keep doing it?”

“I cannot stop once started.” He shrugged.

“That’s it? You’re keeping the Allfather marooned wherever the hell he is and making my life miserable just because you figure you’ve made your bed and now you have to lie in it?” she laughed.

“There is much more to it than that, Natasha.” He leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes.

She seized a metal and crystal pot from the side table and smashed it against his temple, jumping into his lap with a jagged piece still in hand. Loki reared and grabbed her wrists, blood trickling down the side of his face as she tried to fight him and failed. He was so much stronger, his grip cutting off the circulation to her hands. She headbutted him and he snarled, rolling them both off the seat so she was pinned to the floor.

“That was incredibly foolish, Natalia,” he panted, licking his lip, “Did you really think you could best me at hand-to-hand?”

“I was hoping the vase would knock you out, actually. Or at least make you woozy.”

“Jotunns are made of sterner stuff, my dear.”

He smacked the back of her hand against the floor, the broken shard flying across the carpet.

“And now what shall we do with you?”

 

“Kill me.”

“An intriguing answer. Do explain.”

“I’ll never stop fighting you. I’ll run away so often the whole city laughs at you, I’ll try to take you down every time we’re alone, I’ll scream your name from the rooftops until my oesophagus closes up if I have to but I will never stop.”

“All the more reason to keep you around, my dear,” he smirked cruelly, “Think how much fun I’ll have watching you struggle.”

He disappeared, leaving her gasping for breath on the floor. Natasha turned on her side, pushing herself up until she could lean on the coffee table, and closed her eyes with an aborted sob of rage.

Was this it then? She couldn’t get out, not through any of the paths she knew existed. Since she’d never match him physically the only way she could kill him was by surprise, and with his magic and suspicious nature that seemed unlikely. The Aesir wouldn’t help her against the king, and Loki understood too well the risks involved in his charade and having her there. He was prepared for anything and he knew the realm much, much better.

“What would you do, Clint?” she whispered to the ceiling.

Exactly what you just said, his voice in her head muttered, keep trying until the bastard’s caught or dead.

There was nothing she could do – for now. Natasha would just have to keep up the royal act and play nice with Loki and maybe, maybe one day there would be one brief moment where she could slip her shackles.


	4. Chapter 4

Nat walked into the dining room and sat, Magnhild laying her napkin over her lap as Loki’s servant poured her wine.

“Good day, husband.”

“Good day, wife. How was your morning?” the god speared a piece of bread out of the basket and dropped it on his plate.

“I wrote letters to Idunn and Freya and we went to the market to find a present for Lady Sif’s name day.”

“How sweet.” He said, voice full of restrained laughter.

“Wasn’t it just?” she gave him a similarly mirthful look.

“Ladies, will you excuse us?” Loki waved a hand at them.

The attendants left and Natasha let herself relax into her chair, sighing as she picked at her meat.

“Troubles, Tasha?”

“Gift shopping is hideous. As soon as they hear what you’re doing every merchant shoves their wares in your face.”

“Respectfully, of course.”

“It’s still fucking annoying.”

“Perhaps in future you could invite them up to the palace and make them come to you. It might be less stressful.”

“I doubt it, though having a heap of guards around to kick them out when they won’t shut up is pretty appealing.”

He grinned. “You would make a fine evil empress.”

Nat snorted.

“No, really. Having your flunkies throw old women down the stairs, popping children’s balloons – you’d be a true terror.”

She threw a piece of bread at him and Loki ducked.

“Uh uh uhhhh. That is domestic violence, my dear. I shall be forced to report you to the Allfather.”

“Well if you’re going to the trouble anyway.” She tossed a whole bun, whacking him in the side of the head.

They both laughed and settled into a comfortable silence as they ate. After six months she’d adjusted to Asgardian food and was beginning to develop an appetite to rival the Aesir as well, thanks to all the feasting. If Natasha wasn’t careful she was going to end up putting on weight and having no way to shift it.

“Will you still show me off to visitors if I get fat?” she joked.

“Why, do you have plans?” Loki teased.

“Just worried all this sitting around and stuffing my face is going to make me need new gowns.”

“You won’t need new ones,” he clucked his tongue, “I’ll just magic them bigger.”

Her gaze narrowed as he chuckled. “Seriously though. I hate not being able to do anything physical.”

Loki looked at her over his cup. “I know how hard it is to be stifled by the court, believe me.”

“I know,” she sighed, “I just wish there was some way around it.”

He dabbed his beard with a napkin and leaned forward. “I shall see what I can do.”

“You’re not going to find a way for me to train with the warriors, Loki. I’m not stupid. The nobles won’t stand for that.”

“Let me worry about the nobles.”

 

She’d just woken up the next day when he appeared in her chambers. “Morning.”

“Ever heard of knocking?” Natasha raised her brows accusingly.

“I had to catch you before you ate. Put on something practical.”

“Practical for what?”

“Moving around.”

“Have you seen my wardrobe? I don’t own that.”

He rolled his eyes and waved a hand, clothing her in a plain brown tunic and leather pants. Loki took her knife from under the pillow and handed it to her.

“Decided to put me to use as an assassin?” she asked scathingly.

“Come on.” He took her hand.

They moved through the palace in an instant, reappearing in a room she didn’t recognise. It was a cellar but it looked fairly abandoned, a few broken barrels stacked along one wall. The floor and walls were bare stone, a row of short windows near the ceiling letting in the only light, but it was roomy and nice enough if you ignored the smell of old wine. An Aesir in clothes similar to Natasha stood in the middle of the space patiently, a sword and axe on his belt.

Loki stepped behind Natasha and squeezed her shoulders. “This is Agmundr. Agmundr is one of our best guards.”

“And?” the redhead crossed her arms.

“And Agmundr is spelled to think we are in the practice courts and you are just another warrior.”

“Really?” her brows shot up, “How did you manage that?”

“I am capable of anything, my dear. Once the two of you leave this room, he will forget everything that happened inside it except that he is to return at the same time tomorrow.”

Her hands itched already, eager to test the bigger man’s weak spots. “You did this for me?”

“Husbands should get their wives presents, don’t you agree? Have fun.”

He walked out, the door closing sharply behind her, and Natasha smiled.

“Nice to meet you, Agmundr. Sorry in advance.”

Natasha snuck away to the training cellar every morning she could, delighting in the aches in her long-neglected muscles and the adrenaline she hadn’t felt for months. If she escaped unscratched, she’d go back to her rooms and let the ladies dress her; if there were bruises and scrapes and split lips (an almost daily occurrence) she would find Loki and have him heal her before anyone saw. The exercise improved her mood enough that she could sit through her most boring duties with a sincere smile, as pleasant as possible given the circumstances.

 

They was in her favourite book store, Magnhild and Kori talking to the shopkeeper while Guðríðr stood beside her with a basket already full of new additions to the library she was building in her chambers. Natasha especially liked anything about Earth; the Aesir had stories humans couldn’t remember. She picked up a history of Nidavellir and put it back again, hand trailing down the spine as she read its neighbours. There was a thick tome on a lower shelf titled _Bestla, Wife of Bor, Mother of Asgard._ She flicked through the first pages, pausing on a picture of a woman in flowing green robes. Her skin was bright blue.

“This is my lord Odin’s mother?” she asked Guðríðr, pointing to the page.

“Yes, Queen Bestla.”

“She’s a frost giant.”

The blonde made an uncomfortable face. “She was, yes.”

“I don’t get it. Why would Bor marry a frost giant if they’re Asgard’s enemies?”

“They weren’t, not before Laufey and his army invaded Midgard. The Allfather stepped in to protect the mortals and took the Casket of Ancient Winters so they could never make such an attack again.”

Natasha raised her brows. Odin himself was half Jotunn and he’d hidden it from Loki for a thousand years? He knew, whatever Laufey had done, that not all Jotnar were evil and he’d still raised his child to believe they were monsters. It was the most screwed up thing she’d ever heard. The queen dropped the book into her basket without hesitating.

When they got back to the palace she hugged it to her chest and made her way to the throne room. Loki was sitting on the dais but the hall was empty.

“Finished for the day?”

“Almost,” he smiled, “How was your trip to the city?”

“I found a book for you.”

“A book?” the god frowned, “Why would you get me a book?”

“Wives should give their husbands presents, right? And I have some questions.” She held it up.

Loki’s face blanched as he read the title. “Ah.”

“What the fuck is Odin’s problem? Does he have some internalised racism that he felt he really needed to pass down?”

“Bestla has been dead for longer than I have been alive, Tasha. If Odin loved his mother once he has long forgotten it, I am certain.”

“No, this...this is unacceptable. There’s so much wrong with it I don’t even know where to start.”

Loki shrugged. “In the time of Bor, the Jotnar were peaceful. At the time of my birth they were not. Laufey was a warring king – I do not find it hard to see how Odin might consider the Jotunns monsters with such an enemy at their head.”

“Then he should have blamed Laufey, not his people.”

“Why does it concern you? You hate me.”

She opened her mouth and closed it again before trying a response. “It’s not right.”

“And you’re a champion for the downtrodden now?”

“There will always be downtrodden. I just...I don’t understand how a whole race can harbour so much hatred when they have proof to the contrary. I mean you went nuts and invaded Earth, Loki. But you must have known Bestla was a Jotunn _and_ Queen of Asgard. You knew there were good Jotnar.”

“I am a product of my upbringing, Natalia. And perhaps it was the truth behind my rage – Odin would put Thor on a throne he was ill-suited for instead of a son who would rule wisely, all because I was not of his blood. He would not let a frost giant inherit his throne when he himself is half Jotunn. It was...infuriating, to say the least.”

“It’s shit.”

“Yes, it’s shit.” He smiled.

She wasn’t sure what else to say. She couldn’t fix Loki, and she certainly couldn’t fix Odin. The trickster had still done too much that was too awful to be forgiven but she felt bad for him. Natasha knew what it was like to feel out of place for being yourself.

 

“How’s the boar?” Loki asked.

Nat nodded, swallowing quickly. “Tastes like it was speared half an hour ago.”

“We have Volstagg to thank for that.” He looked over to where Sif and the Warriors Three had a place of honour in the seats closest to the dais. The lady was wearing her name day gift from the monarchs, a beautiful dwarven dagger, and cheering Volstagg on as he emptied a tankard in one gulp.

“How does he keep the ladies away?” Natasha murmured and Loki hid his smile in his mead.

“We should go pay our compliments to the lovely name day girl.”

“Leave her alone. The last thing she wants today is Odin Allfather watching while she’s trying to have fun.”

Lord Eiríkr approached their table and bowed. “Evening, majesties.”

“Good evening Eiríkr. Are you enjoying the festivities?”

“Indeed, Your Grace. It does me good to see the young warriors so spirited.”

“It’s a great occasion.” Natasha agreed.

“I only wish Prince Thor was here to give his own good wishes.”

Loki’s hand plucked at the edge of the tablecloth where Eiríkr couldn’t see. “I am sure Lady Sif knows he would be the loudest of all her admirers if he were.”

“His Highness is a good man. It’s a shame he prefers to remain away. We miss him.”

“Yes,” Loki smiled tightly, “But I trust he will not be away long.”

“You’ll forgive me saying so, Your Grace, but after Queen Frigga and Prince Loki’s passings I wouldn’t count on it. I’m sure Asgard holds many painful memories for him.”

“And happy ones, I’d think.” Natasha added.

“He has dealt with loss before, particularly Loki’s. He will recover, as he did then. And if he cannot then he is not ready to be king.”

“Of course, my lord.” Eiríkr bowed, backing away.

Natasha took another sip of her mead but she could see the distraction all through Loki’s frame. He rested his chin on his hand and she kicked him subtly, giving his posture a pointed look. The king drew himself up.

“I think I shall retire.”

“We only just sat down.”

“You will stay and offer Sif congratulations for the both of us.” He stood, hurrying out.

Natasha watched him go, lips pulling together worriedly for a moment before settling her features into the appropriate regal expression.

 

“Loki?” she knocked on the bedroom door.

He was by the window, jacket open but still on, staring up at the stars as the wind tossed his hair over his face. Natasha frowned and came closer.

“Are you alright?”

“No. No, I’m afraid I am not.”

“Listen, what Eiríkr said about Thor...I know it’s tough for you.”

“You have absolutely no idea.”

And he was right. She didn’t have any brothers or sisters. She hadn’t spent a thousand years with someone and then had the relationship shattered to pieces, along with everything else she knew about herself.

“Odin had brothers once.”

“Sorry?”

“Odin,” Loki repeated, “He had brothers. Vili and Vé. They helped him subdue the fire demon Surtur.”

“What happened to them?” she leaned her hands on the edge of the dresser.

“They supposedly died in that battle. Gave their lives for Asgard, true heroic sons of Bor.”

“Supposedly?”

“It is whispered, amongst those of the shadowy realms I have favoured in the past, that they coveted Frigga.”

“Wow,” she raised her brows, “You think Odin had something to do with their deaths? That’s pretty harsh, even for him.”

“Why shouldn’t he be involved? He is not afraid to get his hands dirty if it secures him victory.”

“You and Thor aren’t like that. He loves you, Loki.”

“I have given him little reason to.”

“Love doesn’t really work like that. It’s not something you can rationalise.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in it.” He looked at her.

“Not personally, but I’ve been around it enough to know people as warm and good-natured as Thor aren’t going to give up on us ice-hearted bitches, no matter what we do.”

“Was that how it was for you and Barton?”

She bit the inside of her cheek and nodded. “He should never have spared me but he did. He was stupid like that.”

“Thor has spared me over and over in recent times. I fear one day I will push him too far and he will not be able to do it again. I fear I already have.”

She wasn’t sure what to say. She certainly wouldn’t condone his actions and she didn’t know Thor well enough to say he’d get over it, though she had a sinking feeling Loki could murder babies in front of him and the blond would still excuse him. Natasha shrugged.

“You knew that was a danger when you started this.”

“We were united when we face Malekith. Sharing a common cause for the first time in months. And now...” he sighed so softly she almost missed it.

“Funny. Frigga may have torn Odin and his brothers apart, but she brought you back together with yours.”

He inclined his head, inhaling deeply. “A feat she will not manage again”

*****

Natasha and her ladies were walking from the library to her rooms, head still full of the history of trade between Asgard and Alfheim. She needed to consider their past agreements to handle the concerns of a very snippy merchant and was half-wishing she could just bang the elf’s head into a wall – but queens were supposed to settle their disagreements with composure, so she stuck to imagining it instead.

A man in a light blue tunic stopped and bowed. “My lady.”

She ran his face through her memory. “Lord Bjorn. I trust you’re well.”

“Yes, yes. Things are starting to settle down again,” he smiled, “And yourself, majesty? How are you liking Asgard?”

“It’s still surreal at times but the people are honest and noble.” She smiled more warmly than she felt, slipping into her kindly regal mask.

He nodded, looking her over critically. “And the king? You are getting along with him?”

She arched a brow. Did Lord Bjorn think she was looking for a lover? “My lord and I are as close as ever. He has been very generous and understanding while I adjust.”

“We are all glad to hear it. Especially with things as they are.”

“And how are things?” her tone hardened.

“I only mean with the princes both absent, it is good to know things stand well between you.”

“How things stand between me and His Majesty is none of your business.”

Lord Bjorn ducked his head. “Of course, my lady. Forgive me.”

“I think this conversation is finished, my lord.”

He bowed again and walked off. Natasha watched him go before hurrying back to her chambers with quick, angry strides. Her ladies were quiet, sensing the coming storm, and the second they closed the door behind them Natasha turned.

“Is there talk in the court about me and His Majesty?”

Magnhild cleared her throat awkwardly. “Some, my lady.”

“Well?” Nat looked at her expectantly.

“I don’t know quite how to word it, Your Grace.”

“You know me well enough by now to know I don’t appreciate mollycoddling. Tell me what they’re saying.”

“There’s some concern you have yet to conceive, my lady,” Kori blushed, eyes down, “With the Allfather so advanced in years, it would be unfortunate for him to pass on without a child of age to inherit. And since you spend your nights in separate chambers...”

“Are people planning to do anything about it?”

“Oh no, my lady. They know better than to interfere.”

“But it doesn’t reflect well on the king.”

Guðríðr twisted her fingers together. “No one questions that His Majesty loved Frigga very much. But they whisper that he should put his grief aside for the good of the realm.”

Which meant Loki was probably hearing those whispers too. No one would be foolish enough to say anything to him directly but he had to be feeling the strain of their disapproval, and yet he hadn’t pressured her. He hadn’t even mentioned children since their wedding night. Despite how well they’d settled into a routine, he’d made no attempt to talk Natasha into bed.

“I will dine with the king tonight.”

“I’ll let his stewards know.” Kori curtsied, leaving quietly.

“Shall I bring you the latest letters, my lady?”

“No. Leave me.”

She wandered to the balcony, barely noticing them obey as she looked at the city. Thousands of lives, all relying on a strong king to protect them. Loki wasn’t going to die as soon as everyone expected but if Thor never returned and he never produced another heir, she didn’t doubt the nobles would start to get twitchy. And if she remembered her own country’s history, twitchy nobles usually led to one thing.

 

He looked surprised to see her when she entered the dining room, fork suspended halfway to his mouth.

“I wasn’t sure you were actually coming.”

“Why not? I sent word.”

“Yes but you generally spend your nights alone.”

“I wanted to talk where no one would hear us.” She said under her breath.

“Ah.” He nodded, closing his mouth.

She piled her plate high, using food to keep her distracted. Normally she didn’t tolerate such transparent coping mechanisms but tonight she needed the extra push.

“Is everything alright?”

“Not really.”

“Is there something I can do?”

“We’ll talk about it after dinner.” She smiled tightly.

He drained his wine, watching her closely through the rest of the meal, but she didn’t speak. She had to save it for the conversation to come or they’d never get through it.

When she’d cleared her plate Loki stood. “Shall we?”

She took his arm. “Let’s take the long way to your chambers.”

“As you like.”

They walked into the corridor, heading for the busier feasting halls instead of straight to their rooms. Natasha wanted everyone to see them together, a united front. She was going to cut this gossip off as quickly as possible.

“How was your day?” she asked.

Loki stuck out his lip. “The same as ever. The dwarves are trying to cheat us on the next shipment of uru.”

“Did you tell them not to bother?”

“They know we can’t source the metal from anywhere else. I wouldn’t usually mind paying but the repairs have placed a strain on our treasury.”

“Surely we can skip some of the more extravagant rebuilding. Do we really need a hundred marble columns?”

“If we don’t replace them, people will know it is because we can’t. Asgard has to appear untouchable after such public evidence it is not.”

They wandered upstairs slowly, Loki dismissing the servants waiting in his rooms. Nat made sure they saw her touch his arm affectionately on the way out. She was certain by morning everyone would be talking about the king and queen’s new intimacy.

Loki spelled the doors closed and dropped his illusion with a sigh of relief. “That’s better. Wine?”

“A small one, thanks.”

He poured from the pitcher on the sideboard, handing her the glass as she sat. “Now what do we need to discuss?”

“People are getting anxious that I’m not pregnant.”

 

He froze, tipping the ewer so his cup didn’t overflow. “You’ve noticed.”

“It was made pretty clear today.”

“What do you mean?” his gaze narrowed.

“Don’t worry, I took care of it. But they’re worried you’re going to die with Thor still away and no replacement.”

“They needn’t worry about that for another few thousand years.”

“They don’t know that. They have expectations.”

“Yes.”

“You haven’t mentioned it to me.”

“I didn’t think you’d care. It’s not your problem.”

“It’s entirely my problem. I haven’t been doing anything to imply we’re even trying for kids. They’re going to say I’m not happy with you.”

“Why do you care if they do? It’s the truth.”

“It invites doubt.”

“Again, why do you care?”

“If I have to stay here and be queen, I’m going to be the queen. And part of that is making sure we look like a team. It’s like you said before, Asgard has to look strong to survive.”

He sat opposite her, wine in hand. “There is not much we can do about it. People will talk – it’s one of the only truths constant across the realms.”

“Why didn’t you try to coerce me? I’m your prisoner, no match for you physically even without your magic. You never even suggested we have sex when you could have just demanded it.”

His gaze narrowed, voice steely cold. “Do you imagine I would enjoy that?”

“I don’t know.” She said honestly.

“I am not as unreasonable as people think, Tasha. I knew the second I laid a hand on you, you would give up any token pleasantness you have begrudgingly shown.”

“You could have lied to me that first night. I don’t know Odin, I wouldn’t have known it was you. I admit that. You could have tricked me but you didn’t. Was it because you didn’t want to sleep with me as him, or because you didn’t want to betray me like that?”

“I’m not that breed of monster.” He said very quietly.

Natasha pursed her lips, twitching them to the side. She put her cup down and met his gaze evenly.

“Is there a way to, I don’t know, magically speed up the process?”

He sucked in his cheeks, eyes huge. “Pardon?”

“Is there a spell or enchantment that will make me conceive on the first try? After all this time we can’t waste more.”

“You would lie with me?” his voice was lower than usual but it didn’t quite hide the shaking.

“I’ll have a child if Asgard needs me to.”

“Why?” he shook his head, “Why do you care what happens to us?”

She shrugged. “The Aesir are good people, even with their flaws. They don’t need more trouble.”

“And you? You don’t seem the maternal type.”

“I’ve never had much of an option to be. Maybe this is a chance for me to have something I couldn’t have on Earth.”

He emptied the last of his wine, rubbing his thumbs over the metal etchings in the goblet. “It would be a very great sacrifice on your part. I would not take that lightly.”

“Oh I know you won’t. Because if I agree to this, things will change, Loki. I won’t have you controlling me or any children we have.”

“What are your terms?”

“I won’t tell anyone the truth about Odin. It will only cause chaos and panic, since I’m guessing you hid him well enough they won’t be able to find him. Someone like Jotunheim might get the idea to attack while we’re weak, and I’m not convinced Thor is the best person to hold them off. But you have to let me have some contact with Earth. Clint, SHIELD, the people I knew before.”

“How can I trust you won’t find some way to escape if I allow that?”

“I won’t try to escape,” she sighed, “Because we’ll be tied together. If we have a child, I will do anything to protect it – especially from you and your trouble – and I won’t do anything to destabilise Asgard. What would be the point of giving you an heir if I took them away?”

He watched her carefully. “You would really do this?”

“Yes.”

He licked his lips, eyes closing for a moment, and she realised how worried he’d actually been.

“So is there a spell to help?”

“There may be but it’s not an area I’ve ever needed to specialise in. Give me a day to go over my books and I’ll have something.”

“Then tomorrow night we’ll do the spell and give it a try.”

He nodded mutely and she stood, suddenly desperate to get away while she still could. She was at the door when he spoke.

“Thank you. Not for Asgard, for me.”

Nat didn’t respond.

 

She couldn’t concentrate all day. She tried to tell herself it was like any other mission where she’d had to sleep with someone for the job, no need to be nervous, but the idea of actually trying to get pregnant was terrifying. Natasha had been told from the moment she hit puberty that sex was a weapon and babies only slowed you down.

She skipped lunch with Loki and kept to her rooms, knowing the girls were probably sharing meaningful glances behind her back as they sewed. She didn’t care though, trying to weigh the bad against the good. If she did this she could speak to Clint again. She could have some connection to Earth, and maybe it wouldn’t feel like she was so trapped anymore.

By dinner she was too anxious to eat. Magnhild considered her disapprovingly as she turned away supper.

“Something troubles you.”

“Nothing important.”

“Then you should eat.”

“I’m fine, Hildie. I’m just not hungry.”

“Hmm.” She scowled, taking the tray away.

“Would you help me into a different gown?”

“Of course, my lady,” Kori came forward, “Which one?”

Natasha ran her eyes over the contents of her wardrobe and pointed to a dress that seemed less complicated than the many buckles and lacings of her other clothes. She wanted this to be as painless as possible.

“The black.”

Kori gave her a strange look but took it down, helping her out of her day gown and into the sleek linen. She wrapped a fur around herself against the chill and stood.

“I shall be spending the night with His Majesty. You’re dismissed.”

“Yes, my lady.”

She walked to Loki’s rooms before she could change her mind. The redhead knocked and a servant answered, bowing as she passed. The king himself was at his desk, a book open in his lap. As soon as he saw her, his face changed to a slightly lost expression.

“Leave us.”

His servants filed out, shutting the door. The god flicked his fingers and she saw the green light of the locking spell take effect, his visage changing soon after.

“Did you find something?”

“I did.” He carefully set the book aside.

She hung her fur over the back of the sofa. “What do we need to do?”

“It’s an old Vanir spell, not used often because it’s very draining for the mother. If I cast it you’ll be bedridden tomorrow.”

“How long does it last?”

“24 hours.”

She thought of her schedule and nodded. “Cast it.”

He stood, crossing until he could almost touch her, hands hovering near his chest like he wanted to. “Are you sure about this, Natasha? You do not have to do it. The Aesir can learn to live with their fears.”

“I’m certain.”

 

She expected him to do the spell right away but instead he went to a cabinet with a heavy lock and opened one side. Loki took out a woven basket, walking back to face her. He opened the lid to reveal a large apple that glowed pure gold, the skin so shiny she expected it to reflect her own face back at her.

“What’s this? Part of the enchantment?” she asked.

“This is Lady Idunn’s wedding gift.”

“What is it?”

“An apple of immortality. Natasha, if you eat this, you will be strong and fast. You will have centuries of life over the other mortals of your realm.”

“You mean I’d be able to take on the Aesir and the other races?”

“Yes.”

She bit her cheek for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“Before there was reason to think you meant to offer me violence. I was not foolish enough to give you the tools to do so. But now you have sworn to stay and raise our children, and you will need time for that.”

“Is that the only reason you’re offering it to me?”

He hesitated and she arched a brow. Loki hung his head. “I do not want there to be a question of my forcing you to do anything. With this, I will not have such an advantage over you. You will not need to fear being punished for anything you say or do. Your decisions will always be your own.”

She looked at the apple that was freedom and slavery at once. It would be huge for her to be on more level footing with the god – and not just Loki, but anyone who might want to hurt her. And the fact he was offering her that was a big display not just of trust but that he cared enough to want her to be comfortable and safe. On the other hand, immortality wasn’t something to treat lightly. She’d be bound to Loki for the foreseeable future, their marriage no longer limited by a human lifespan.

She thought of the child they were trying to bring into this universe and took the apple, sinking her teeth in. Loki gave a tiny murmur of surprise but she didn’t notice, too busy dealing with the red hot gold that poured into her veins. She forced another bite down, almost doubling over at the sensation as her body adapted.

“Natasha?”

“Give me a minute. Do I have to eat the whole thing?”

“Not now. You can finish it over a couple of days.”

“Awesome.”

She dropped the rest and clutched the back of a chair, waiting until she had her breath back. She felt a rush of energy, like she could tear through a hundred enemies and not even break a sweat.

“Wow.”

“Are you ready to do the spell?”

She straightened, nodding. He made a motion in front of her face, muttering under his breath, and pressed his thumb to her forehead. Nat gasped and he drew his hand back quickly.

“Are you well?”

“Fine, fine, it just...tingled.” Like a full body shiver through her entire nervous system, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Oh. Um, shall we...”

“I guess we should, since you went to the trouble of putting the charm on me and everything.”

 

He stood there silently for a minute and she realised she was going to have to start, even though she couldn’t think of anything she wanted to do less.

“Come on.” She took his hand, leading him into the bedroom.

Natasha closed the door and stepped away, untying the first fastening under her arm. She moved to the next lacing and Loki hurried to catch up, still staring at her a bit bewildered as he shucked off his armour. She dropped her gown and then her chemise, feeling like she was actually the less exposed out of the two of them. Loki’s gaze was almost frightened when he saw her standing there naked, hands stilling at the waistband of his trousers.

Nat got a rush of pride. So she could still make men forget themselves, even all-powerful god kings. It gave her enough of an ego boost to walk over and undo his pants, eyes on his as her chest brushed that pale skin.

“You’ve done this before, I’m assuming.”

He gave her a scornful look and she smirked. At least if he was mad he wasn’t going to freeze up.

“It’s just like that, alright? We do what’s needed and carry on like normal.”

He nodded and she made to stick her hand into his now-open trousers. He grabbed her wrist instead, Loki’s other hand cupping her jaw.

“What are you doing?”

“What’s needed.” He whispered, kissing her.

She let herself be swept into the movement of his lips for a moment, the warmth of his hand on her face. She hadn’t been with anyone in months, and though she got plenty of contact from her ladies, it wasn’t the same. Natasha let herself enjoy the feeling for a second before pulling away.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m not the kind of girl who needs to be in love to be intimate.”

“You are sacrificing everything for me,” he frowned, staring into her eyes, “What kind of man would I be if I took what you gave and offered you nothing in return?”

“It’s not like it will hurt my feelings if you’re honest about the situation. I won’t feel like I’m undesirable or anything if we admit this is just practicality.”

“It is not _just_ practicality, Tasha. We may not be lovers but I hope at least we are companions. This can be more than simply creating a child. It can be a brief respite from never letting anybody close, safe in the knowledge that we both understand it is only temporary.”

She studied his face, lips parted as if her body had already made the decision to cooperate. She could see the wistfulness in his gaze. He’d married her because he was lonely. She at least had Magnhild and Kori and Guðríðr to talk to. Nat was the only person in the entire universe Loki didn’t have to pretend to be anyone but himself for.

“Okay.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah.”

 

She kissed him, hand on his shoulder, and Loki released his grip on her wrist. Natasha’s hand quickly found its way into his trousers, cupping his groin. The god lifted her by the waist, walking them both over to the bed. He pressed her back into the mattress, a hand running down her ribs. Her fingers brushed over the head of his cock and Loki gripped her hip hard enough to bruise, but with the apple’s magic in her veins it felt good. Natasha wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer. Letting him in, that’s what she was supposed to be doing, right? Being herself for once in her life.

She rolled, forcing him onto his back. It was better that way, the liesmith blinking up at her as Natasha’s strokes wrenched breathy gasps from his chest. He was prey and she was predator. She had the control again. She was Black Widow, unstoppable and most beautiful when she was elbow-deep in blood. She could have his now if she desired it.

Natasha rubbed herself against his thigh and Loki sighed, fingers kneading her legs around the knees. She could do this. She’d brought prime ministers and generals and presidents to their knees, and here Loki was, helpless and needy. Natasha had never been more of a queen than that moment, the pride shining out through her expression like a beacon. Loki gasped and sat up, nuzzling at her neck down to her chest. She wrapped a hand in his hair, holding him there.

His tongue trailed down over her nipple and she gasped. “Loki.”

He growled, turning them again so he was on top. His hips curved against hers and she spread her legs wider, clutching at his sides. Loki slid a hand between them and pressed his thumb flat over her clit, Natasha arching towards the teasing contact. The thumb slipped lower, grazing over slick folds.

“Yes?” he whispered.

“Yes.” She tapped her fingertips on his shoulders.

Loki took himself in hand and pressed his head against her entrance, pushing gently. She gasped, head rolling back as the pressure built. He slid in further and the friction was startling, like she’d forgotten how it felt to fit together with another person. Loki groaned, sinking down the rest of the way, hands braced on the bed.

Natasha looked up at him, at the sweat on his brow and the squint in his eyes, and remembered just exactly who she was fucking. This was the guy who turned her whole world on its head and almost destroyed it. This guy tore Clint into little pieces and gave him back broken. This guy stole her away from everything she knew and forced her into place at his side like a doll.

This guy was actually more decent than he had any right to be. In the time she’d been in Asgard he had proved it over and over, trying to make her happy no matter how impossible it seemed, and doing a great job as king. She remembered why they were doing this and the rest melted away, her limbs going loose as Natasha pulled Loki closer. She rolled her hips and he gasped, driving into her in response.

“Faster.” She whispered, lips seeking his.

Loki yanked her forward to meet him, their bodies connecting with a clash, and Natasha revelled in the fact she wasn’t breakable anymore. No matter what happened after this moment, she could protect herself from most of the other races, and no human would ever best her again. She was powerful and immortal and people jumped when she called, even this sorcerer who should have been nothing but a myth. She groaned and tugged him towards her, thrusting faster.

 

Loki felt as he kissed her that he could finally feel Natasha. She was strength and stealth in one, lightness and intellect and crushing force. She obliterated anyone that crossed her path and here he was trapped between those thighs like a sucker. But he could feel something else there, a raw dark streak behind her eyes, a vulnerability he’d never noticed before. And it wasn’t because he was slamming her into the mattress; it was because she was present for once, more than a character, more than an agent. She was Natasha and he was Loki and whatever else they were, in this moment they were honest.

His hands moved over her skin like spiders, brushing her nipples, tickling the sensitive spots under her ribs, pinching the edge of her thighs. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t wanted Natasha from the first moment he saw her in the tight catsuit, but this wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined it. He changed the angle slightly, putting fleeting pressure on her G-spot, and Natasha growled, squeezing his upper arms.

“Loki.”

The name sent sparks down his spine, the electricity taking root in his thighs and crackling through his veins. He knew better than to say anything back but he adjusted his thrusts to hit the same spot again, over and over until Natasha was writhing beneath him.

He wanted to see her lose control. Loki rolled, holding her tight to him as their positions were reversed. Nat blinked for a moment and he thrust up to encourage her.

“Show me how magnificent you are.”

She panted, hips swivelling slowly at first and then falling into their previous rhythm. She grabbed his hands and pinned them above his head, nails digging into his wrists, and Loki hissed his arousal. He cracked, words spilling out before he could stop them, half of it nonsense with her name tucked in every few breaths.

“Scream for it, Loki.” Natasha purred, snapping her pelvis against his.

He couldn’t defy her when she was so tight and wet around him. Loki yelled, thrusting up off the bed and hanging onto the gasp that escaped her. She rode him into the sheets, putting all her weight on his hands as she ghosted along his shaft. The redhead suddenly plunged down with a curse, her head rolling back.

Loki whimpered as her muscles fluttered around him, wishing he could hold her tight to him and pound their bodies together. Natasha’s gaze cleared, steadier now as she regarded him.

“Do you want it?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“Don’t test me. I’m not a patient man.”

Natasha smirked, trailing a nail down his chest. “I’m tempted to see how long you’ll wait.”

He was about to grind out an insult-heavy reply when she flicked her hips and squeezed him inside at the same time, and the god fell over the edge with a shout, finally finding the strength to break her grip as he tore through the bedding.

The human stilled as he emptied himself into her, fighting her instinct to shove Loki away. This was the whole point of the sex. She waited until he caught his breath and slid off, lying on her side. Natasha stared blankly at the ceiling. If all had gone as planned, they’d just made a baby. It was too big to wrap her head around, more frightening than anything she’d ever had to face. She couldn’t fight this – she just had to accept it. Loki wrapped an arm around her waist and nestled in close behind her, and she let him. For once she needed the support.

 

Natasha woke up to a room already filled with light. It was strange – she never slept through the warriors starting their day’s training. She tried to sit up and couldn’t, her limbs weak and aching. There was a brief moment of panic before she looked at the giant bed and the golden walls of the room and remembered why.

“Uh, husband?” she called, not sure if Loki was Loki or even there.

There was a noise in the other room and he bustled in, looking like himself. “Natasha. Are you well?”

“I can’t move.”

“The spell is strong.” He nodded, coming over to perch on the edge of the bed. He placed the back of his hand against her brow to check her temperature and winced. She didn’t need him to tell her she was burning up.

“That means it’s working, yeah? I mean if I can feel the effects of the spell, then I must be pregnant?”

“I think so but it is not one I’ve used before. I shall keep an eye on you until you’re better and in a few days we’ll see if it took hold.”

“Okay.”

“Do you need anything?”

“Water.”

He went to the washstand and filled a cup from the jug there, carrying it back. She tried to lift her head but she was too weak, looking at him with an expression that dared him to comment.

“Here.” Loki raised her forward, holding the cup against her lips.

Natasha drank eagerly, the water soothing her fever a little. She finished the glass and he laid her back down.

“There’s no pain?”

“No, I just feel sort of limp.”

“Do you think you’ll sleep more?”

“Probably.”

Loki stood, placing the cup on the bedside table. “Perhaps you’d like me to read? To keep you entertained.”

She couldn’t turn her head to see his face but his voice was careful and quiet. “That would be nice. I’ll probably pass out in the middle though.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure you don’t have work to do?”

“This is more important.”

He left the room to get a book and Natasha took a breath. This was definitely important. If it worked and she was pregnant, it would be the most important thing she’d ever done.

Loki returned with a book in hand, holding it up. “ _The Adventures of Lady Freya in Niflheim_.”

“Sounds good.”

 

Natasha spent most of the day drifting in and out. Loki fed her a few small bowls of porridge and kept her hydrated and wiped the sweat off when it got too much. She could see his gaze flicking to her stomach occasionally and wondered what was going on in there.

She felt an enormous wave of relief when she could finally get up by herself. Natasha didn’t like being incapacitated. She couldn’t imagine how crazy she’d go over the next few months if she had to be careful of the baby, though they hadn’t really discussed how any of that was going to work.

“Loki?”

He hurried in. “Hmm? Ah, you’re up.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you hungry?”

“No, but could someone run me a bath? I don’t want to go back to my rooms like this.”

“I’ll call the servants immediately.”

“Can we talk first?”

He looked startled but drifted over, sitting at the end of the bed. “Go on.”

“What happens if I am pregnant? I mean, how does it affect my duties?”

“We’ll make an announcement and there will probably be a few days of feasting. Then you’ll be able to continue as you have, provided you avoid anything physical and keep mostly to the palace. When you are in too much discomfort, you’ll retire from your tasks until you are able to take them up again.”

“And how long is all that going to take?”

“I don’t know.”

“How long is a normal Jotunn pregnancy?”

“I’ve never asked.”

“There must be books about it somewhere.”

“Not in Asgard. Why should we need them? But the Jotnar advance much faster than mortals, as with the Aesir. Though I am over 1000, I have been an adult as you see me for almost seven hundred years.”

“But this baby will be half human. We gestate for nine months.”

He screwed up his nose. “I am not sure how it will work. To my knowledge there has never been a halfling before, due to certain...incompatibilities of size.”

“Okay. So let’s assume with slightly accelerated development it will be about six months.”

“That seems fair. It will be enough time to prepare the palace.”

“Anything weird I should expect?”

He shook his head. “Not to my knowledge.”

“That’s not comforting.”

“I’ll have them draw you your bath and get your women to bring a change of clothes.”

“Loki,” she sat up as he turned, “If the Jotunns grow so quickly...can you tell yet? Did it work?”

He glanced back over his shoulder. “Yes.”

The god left and Natasha stared down at her stomach. There was a tiny creature growing in there that hadn’t existed the day before. And in maybe six months she’d have to give birth to it and raise it and be a good mother as well as a good queen. It was the strangest thought she’d ever had.

“They don’t prepare you for this in basic training.” She huffed, pulling herself out of bed.

 

When she got back to her rooms there was a box on the table with a folded note beside it, the parchment sealed with a silver snake crest. She shook her head at Loki’s audacity as she slit it open and read the letter. It wasn’t a message but a list of instructions. She opened the box and found a wax slate with a matching reed pen, the whole thing decorated with gold and carved runes. She checked the instructions again and took a deep breath, carrying the gift over to the window seat to think of what she wanted to say. Natasha looked down at the gardens and decided to keep it simple, tracing the pen over the wax.

_I miss you._

The words flared gold for a moment and vanished. She waited five minutes before the tablet lit up again, new words etching themselves into the surface.

_Tasha?_

She smiled. _Yeah. Finally got the Asgardian equivalent of a cell phone._

_Oh my god. This is amazing. Jesus, it’s so great to hear from you._

_How are things going down there? Getting into trouble without me?_

_No more than usual._

_Why don’t I believe you?_

_You know me too well. If we weren’t friends, I’d have to kill ya._

She laughed, Clint’s next reply arching across the wax almost immediately.

_And you? How’s...everything?_

_Good? That doesn’t sound very sure._

Natasha grimaced. He knew when she was lying, and even if they couldn’t see and hear each other she wouldn’t feel right doing it.

_Being married sucks about as much as we always suspected. But the king’s not as bad as most of the marks I had to date before._

_Is he treating you right?_

She could almost feel the overprotective growl in his words. _He’s been a perfect gentleman._

_Good. Cos he might be the All-whatever, but he’s still not good enough for you._

_What man do you ever approve of?_

_None. You’re the closest thing to a sister I got, kid, so get used to it._

She hugged the tablet to her chest, wishing it was the real thing. After so long with no connection to her old life, having Clint teasing her like nothing had changed was overwhelming. More than anything she wanted to tell him about the baby, and how she was scared, and how she wasn’t sure this was something she knew how to do. But she couldn’t so she steered the subject back to SHIELD and bit her lip until it was bloody.

 

Natasha waited another day before she said anything, wanting to wrap her head around the idea before she invited other people into the chaos. She stuck to her routine, attending to her duties and having lunch with Loki, who acted as if nothing had happened. She was grateful for it; the redhead wasn’t sure she could have handled it if they both freaked out.

Finally she got up while her ladies were organising breakfast, talking quietly amongst themselves. Kori smiled as she set out the cutlery.

“Morning, my lady. How are you this day?”

“Pregnant.”

The trio froze, Magnhild actually dropping the hairpins in her hands with a clatter.

“Pregnant?” Guðríðr whispered.

“Yes.”

The next five minutes contained more laughing and squealing than she’d ever heard, anywhere, ever. Even the Aesir children didn’t make as much noise during their games. She shook her head, wondering again why the hell she’d gotten herself into this mess. And the rest of the nobles were going to be just as bad when they made the formal announcement.

“Silence!”

The trio instantly went quiet, watching her closely.

“Sit.”

They hurried out of her way, waiting obediently for the next order as they settled on the couch. Natasha smirked: there might be some advantages to this pregnancy thing after all.


	5. Chapter 5

Loki watched as Natasha waddled into the dining room, hands clasped over her bulging stomach. Even with her gowns specially made to leave room for expansion, she was outgrowing them every few weeks. It wouldn’t be long now.

“How are you, my lady?”

“Cranky,” she scowled, taking a seat, “I’m hungry all the time thanks to your rotten child’s metabolism, I have to pee every half an hour and let me tell you, humans are not made to take the kicks of half-Jotunn children.”

“You had Idunn’s apple.”

“It still hurts.”

He pursed his lips. “My apologies. Be grateful I am a runt and it has not inherited my kind’s giant stature either.”

She gave him a sharp look, the one she always gave when he let his worry creep into his voice. Natasha placed a hand over his.

“Hey, just because the baby is half-Jotunn doesn’t mean it’s going to be abnormal or strange, yes? Odin’s half-Jotunn.”

“And he turned out so well.”

“Lokiiii. We’ve talked about this self-loathing thing. You’re not giving our child a racist complex.”

“I know. But there are practical considerations to think of. What if it is clearly Jotunn in appearance from birth? My illusions can hide it as Odin did for me but we will not be able to have any Aesir in the delivery room, and the midwives will be suspicious.”

“Given that it hasn’t frozen my insides, we can assume it has human skin.”

“Assumptions do no good if they are wrong. If the queen of Asgard gives birth to a blue child, people will have questions.”

Natasha started heaping things on her plate. She paused for a moment, looking puzzled. “How did Odin pass you off as his?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well everyone from here to Nidavellir knows about this baby. How did Odin convince everyone in the Nine realms that Frigga gave birth to you when they would have known it wasn’t true – especially the Aesir?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I assume there was magic involved. If they’d kept me hidden for a month or two and spelled Frigga to look with child...it would not have been so hard to believe.”

He dragged his fork through the crumbs on the tablecloth. That was enough of that topic for one day.

“The gifts have been pouring in,” he said with false cheer, “A golden rattle from King Eitri, flowers from Idunn’s garden. Lord Frey has promised to rename a mountain after the child.”

“Oh goody. How useful. Did he happen to send any baby clothes as well?”

“We have plenty. I think those handmaidens of yours will sew enough for the entire next generation of Aesir.”

“They’re very enthusiastic. I may smother Kori if she doesn’t shut up about baby names.”

 

Loki looked away. Names – another path he didn’t want to go down. As excited as he was about having a child, and relieved that everyone had stopped giving him shifty looks for taking so long about it, the baby was a minefield for awkward conversations.

“I was thinking about that actually,” Natasha shovelled more salad into her mouth, chewing before she continued, “What about Leifr for a boy?”

He frowned. “Heir. A bit obvious, don’t you think?”

“It also means loved, according to Geirr. And it works with Lokison and Odinson.”

Loki set his fork down hard. She couldn’t possibly know he was upset the child wouldn’t bear his name – they’d never discussed it. If he wasn’t already edgy from the redhead’s constant pregnancy mood swings, he’d be downright terrified of her apparent mindreading.

“I like it. But what if it’s a girl?”

Natasha grimaced. He knew why – a girl meant they’d have to keep trying until they got a heir. “Haven’t thought about it.”

“What about Sigrid?”

“Princess Sigrid,” Nat tried it out, “It’s pretty.”

“Sigrid Odinsdóttir.”

“Sigrid Lokadóttir.” She corrected with a tight smile.

“Yes.” He inclined his head reluctantly.

Natasha went back to her food. “But we’ll probably have a boy anyway.”

He ignored the sting at the flippancy in her voice that he knew was hiding actual concern. The only reason he hadn’t run a spell to check the baby’s sex yet was because he knew if it was a girl Natasha would be frustrated at having to do this all over again, and she didn’t need the stress. “Probably.”

“And you still can’t tell me how much longer this thing’s going to be in me?” she winced at another kick.

“No, but I can have armies of servants on standby to rub your back and feet as needed, dearest.”

“Ha ha,” she rolled her eyes, “You better.”

 

Over the next few weeks Loki didn’t really have time to worry about the baby. There was a small crisis between some young warriors and some dwarves who felt they’d overstepped their bounds, and it took him days and days to calm the diminutive beings down while discouraged his people who were gagging for a fight. He’d need to find them some kind of quest soon or they’d bring the palace down around his ears.

When he did think about Natasha and their child, it was with the same wonder and confusion he’s had for months. He still couldn’t believe she’d actually proposed the whole idea, or that he was going to be a father. The concept was so foreign and unexpected, something he’d always envisioned in the far future before he learned the truth about his parentage, and never afterwards. Now they were days away from having a small creature that relied on him for protection and guidance and love, and he wasn’t sure he had any to give it. He wished more than anything he could speak to Frigga; she would have known what to do.

He was in the official reception room trying to explain to a thick-skulled farmer why his neighbour might be upset he let a giant rabbit loose in his garden when the steward ran in, crouching by his shoulder.

“The queen is in labour, my lord.”

“What?” he said, too loudly and too like himself. The steward eyed him warily as the farmer fell silent. Loki stood. “My apologies, master farmer. Urgent matters require my attention. Could we continue this in a few days?”

“Uh, yes, yes, majesty. Whatever you please.”

He strode out, the steward at his heels. “Where is she?”

“In her rooms.”

“Who is with her?”

“Her ladies and the chief midwife.”

“Double the guard on the palace gates and send word that we are not to be disturbed.”

The young man nodded, running off. Loki waited until he was out of sight and popped himself closer to her rooms, hurrying in to find Natasha on the bed surrounded by blondes all trying to dry her brow, a tall redhead in white healer’s robes peering up her skirt.

“Odin!” Nat beamed gratefully. He was amazed she could still keep up a cover in the throes of childbirth, and once again felt a huge wave of respect for her talents.

Magnhild and Kori hurriedly moved aside to let him crouch at her side, his hand seeking hers. She squeezed it tight, breath loud in her throat.

“Are you in much pain, my dear?”

“Enough.” She wheezed out.

“How long?” he snapped at the midwife.

“She’s half dilated. I can’t see the head yet but I’d say given it’s her first child, maybe another two or three hours.”

“Good, good. Everything appears normal?”

“The babe is lined up nicely as far as I can tell.”

“Excellent. Get out.”

 

The midwife looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Sire, she will need my services.”

“She has two or three hours before she needs them. I want her calm and rested until then. All of you, out.”

“My lady?” Magnhild said quietly.

“It’s fine, Hildie. I want to be alone with the king. We’ll call you if we need anything.”

They looked unhappy about it but they couldn’t disobey a direct order. The women left and Loki flung the locking spell at the door behind them, dropping his disguise.

“Did they give you the numbing drops?”

“Yeah. It still hurts but it’s bearable. You read the thing about delivering babies?”

“Yes.”

“ _Midgardian_ babies?”

“It is the same thing.” He rolled his eyes.

“It better be.”

“I shan’t leave your side.” He rested a hand on her brow.

“Hey, do you think you could do the Jotunn thing?” she waved at his arm.

“What?”

“I’m boiling here and you’re like a giant walking icepack.”

“I’ll burn you.”

“Wrap your hand in a scarf or something. Please, Loki.”

He sighed but rifled through her wardrobe, folding a shawl in half before he swaddled his hand in it. He pulled back the Allfather’s spell, leaving his skin blue from his fingertip to his elbow. Loki laid his palm on her head and she sighed happily.

“Thank you.”

“Thank _you_. You’re birthing our child here.”

“You’re helping.”

“Isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to say it’s all my fault?”

“It is, but you already know that. I’d rather save my breath for other things.”

“Would it help if I distracted you? I could read or tell stories if you like.”

“Tell me one about when you were young.”

“How young? If I tell you of my childhood, I fear you will abandon our babe in case it is too like me.” He smiled.

“Older then. When you were learning magic. Tell me one of your fuck ups.”

Loki laughed. “Those are not flattering tales.”

“Exactly.”

“You are a wicked woman.”

“You put a giant thing inside me that has to come out somehow,” she gestured at her crotch, “Let’s not point fingers here.”

“Very well. A saga of magic and mayhem…it sounds like a good one. How about I start with my experiments in scrying spells?”

 

Loki was glad his greatest skill was talking, because he kept it up for three and a half hours. Nat listened, sometimes distractedly, sometimes laughing, asking questions when she could manage it. It was a very strange feeling being alone together in the bower of her bed and knowing soon there would be three of them. It was like the room was their own world and until they ventured out again they only belonged to each other.

He was describing the fun he’d had before Thor realised he could create clones when she suddenly sat up, moaning low like a wounded animal.

“Natalia?” he leaned in, arm around her shoulders.

“It’s coming, it’s coming now.” She puffed out, closing her eyes against the pain.

He felt a second of alarm, frozen. She moaned again and looked at him expectantly, and Loki snapped out of it.

“Can you stand? The gravity will help.”

“I don’t think so.” She shook her head.

“I could hold you?”

She gasped again and shook her head vigorously. “I’m not moving.”

“Fine, fine. Lay back.”

He settled himself between her legs and drew her skirts up with an apologetic look. She was bursting at the seams, a fleshy bulge visibly through the gap, and he couldn’t help smiling.

“It’s human.”

“That’s great – now get it out of me!”

“You must push.”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

He was glad the angle made it impossible for her to hit him but he wasn’t ruling out that she’d punish him later. Loki reached forward, hands out in preparation to help once the head was clear.

“Push, Tasha. Push!”

She screamed, nails tearing at the sheets. Loki looked up at her.

“Come on Romanov, you can do better than that! You’ve probably scaled buildings with broken legs and taken down assailants with dislocated shoulders. You could walk the length of Russia with nothing but a thin coat! You are better than this!”

“I don’t need the pep talk.” She snarled out, the words turning into another desperate cry as the pain pushed past the threshold of the numbing drops.

“That’s it!” he smiled, “That’s the head.”

Loki ran his hands around the neck to check the baby’s airway was clear. Natasha pushed again and the shoulders came free.

“You’re almost done.”

The baby slipped free with a high-pitched wail. Loki grabbed the shawl from the end of the bed, cleaning its face as Nat fell back with a groan.

“Loki?”

He wrapped the tiny figure up and moved closer, tilting the baby so Natasha could see her face. “Say hello to Sigrid.”

“Sigrid.” She smiled, tired but happy. Natasha reached out and stroked a shaking finger over the girl’s cheek. She looked at Loki, grin wavering. “You’re not disappointed?”

“She’s beautiful,” he kissed the human’s head, “Thank you.”

“She’s not an heir.”

“Says who? Asgard can take what we give them. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

He handed the baby to her. Natasha spent a moment adjusting her hold, cooing softly in Russian as she examined her daughter. Loki thought she looked a bit like them both; her eyes were a startlingly pale blue grey like Nat’s but her hair was stark black and plastered to her head. He’d done this. He’d created a new person and helped her into the world. Loki bit back a laugh.

“It’s so weird.” Nat smiled at him.

“I can hardly believe my eyes.”

“Should we fetch the midwife?”

“Not yet. She’s got ten fingers and ten toes and seems to be breathing. I think we’ll be alright by ourselves for a time.”

She closed her eyes, sinking back into the pillows. “I’m exhausted.”

“I’m not surprised. Was it worth it?”

Natasha reached out a hand and squeezed his arm. “Yeah, I think it was.”

*****

The city bells rang all day and into the night. Every light was on, the palace halls ringing with loud songs and laughter. Natasha and Sigrid’s room was spelled to keep the noise out and though Loki wanted nothing more than to sit and watch them sleep, he had to make an appearance at the feast. The strange new protectiveness in his chest was frightening; loving people was a weakness that could be easily exploited. But he couldn’t help it. Whenever he thought of the two of them there was a feeling like he could carve his way through a mountain by hand if he had to.

“My lord!” Finnr raised a flagon, spilling half the contents over the rim, “Congratulations!”

“My thanks, Finnr. And think, it would not have been possible without your counsel.”

“I take no credit, sire. I’m just happy to see you smiling again.”

“It’s a good day for Asgard.” He agreed.

The warriors were rowdier than he’d ever seen them, giving exuberant toasts and clinking glasses. It seemed it didn’t matter if Sigrid was a girl; the Aesir were so frantic for an heir they were willing to overlook tradition.

“To the princess!”

“To Princess Sigrid”

“To Odin!”

“To the queen!”

Finnr snorted, taking another swig of mead. “You should send word to Prince Thor.”

“What?”

“His Highness will want to meet his new sister.”

Loki’s mouth went dry. He could just imagine what would happen if Thor knew he had a niece, the joy the blond would have felt, the love. But that wasn’t possible – he couldn’t risk the thunder god seeing through his illusion. Loki was the Allfather now, and his happiness had to be kept from his brother on pain of death.

Worse, his daughter would never know her father’s true face. She’d hear tales of him, and probably not flattering ones. Was he any better than Odin? If she ever found out they’d lied to her from birth, she’d be just as shaken as Loki was. Was he just as monstrous as the old king?

“My lord?” Finnr frowned, “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories on this of all days.”

Loki attempted a smile. “Thor made his choice. If and when he returns, he can make Sigrid’s acquaintance. Until then we will proceed with her as my heir.”

“May the Norns protect her.”

He wasn’t in much of a mood to celebrate, reality wearing the gloss off his cheer. Loki stood and the toasts started up again.

“Friends, friends!” he called, the hall falling quieter but not altogether silent, “We thank you for your show of elation on this auspicious of days. Asgard’s cheers will ring through the Nine and herald her arrival. But I am weary and I wish to be with my daughter. You will have to continue without me.”

“Long live the Allfather!”

“Long live the house of Odin!”

He nodded and left, walking the halls invisibly so no one would stop to praise him again. As he took the stairs, he tucked away his ego with each step. Who cared if Sigrid thought herself the Allfather’s daughter? It was true enough and more than that, it would protect her. Loki was a dangerous father to have, with enemies throughout the universe. If she had to believe a lie to keep them safe and happy in the palace, it was better than drifting alone with only the truth as company.

He let himself into Natasha’s rooms, Guðríðr sitting up as he passed her pallet between the bed and the crib. He held a finger to his lips for silence and she nodded, sinking down again. The king peered at his child and knew that he would never let anything hurt her, and in that moment he started to understand Odin just a little bit more.

 

Loki looked up as Natasha entered his rooms, her arms wrapped around herself in a tellingly vulnerable way that she never would have allowed if she wasn’t so tired.

“Problem, wife?”

“How do other women do this?” she sighed, crossing to throw herself on the couch, “I’ve got an army of servants and I still feel like I’ve been running up and down hills with a backpack full of rocks for three straight weeks.”

“She is still not sleeping?”

“No. That child has more stamina than should be possible for anyone. It’s you and your fucking genes, isn’t it?”

“Well you’re not the most hyper of people so yes, I think we can assume she gets it from me.”

“Asshole.” She muttered, throwing an arm over her eyes.

“Would you prefer to sleep here tonight? I could take your rooms, feed her if she wakes.”

“Would you?” she looked at him, “That would be amazing.”

“It’s no trouble. I should have offered sooner.”

“How are things going out in the real world?”

“Real world?”

“You know, the one that doesn’t revolve around nappies and sleeping schedules and feeding times.”

“Ah. The Aesir couldn’t be happier. Our allies are all proclaiming she’ll be a great beauty and a wise princess, and if our enemies are snickering behind our backs about her sex they’ve yet to dare do it openly.”

“Tell me a story about your day that’s completely non-baby-related. I need the break.”

“Shall I regale you with the tedium of wall maintenance and hunting rights?”

“Please.”

“Very well.”

 

They settled into a routine. Loki handled the business of the realm and Nat looked after Sigrid, and whenever it got too much he gave her a few nights off. As she had before her birth, their daughter became a bond between the king and his wife. She was always doing new things for them to discuss, and they shared the same feelings of love and admiration for her. Even on nights they ended up talking about something completely different, laughing and drinking together, Loki knew it was because they were both Sigrid’s parents.

The girl brought out qualities in Natasha he’s never expected. She could be gentle and warm, even with him, as well as practical. Loki worried over every little cry while Natasha knew exactly what they all meant and how serious they were. He often walked into her rooms to find her rocking the infant, singing faint songs in her native tongue. One day when he caught her doing it he couldn’t help interrupting.

“What does Barton think of you turning soft like this?”

She looked up with an unreadable expression. “He doesn’t know about Sigrid.”

“I thought you were in contact.”

“We are. I tell him how things are going here and he tells me about missions. I decided it was better not to discuss the baby.”

“Why?”

“Because if he doesn’t know, he can’t tell Thor.”

He folded his arms, leaning on a bookshelf as a weight plunged into his stomach. Loki looked away. “That seems sensible. I am sorry you must keep it from your friend.”

“It’s for Sigrid, right?” she shrugged.

“Still, I appreciate your discretion. You do not have to protect me from him.”

Natasha kissed their daughter’s head, looking at him pointedly. “Yes I do.”

*****

“Sigrid! Slow down before you fall!” Loki called, clucking his tongue. Nat chuckled beside him, hand tightening around his bicep.

“Let her play.”

“She’s going to crack her head open.” He muttered, watching the toddler race unsteadily along the edge of the path.

“Then the healers will mend her. It’s not the emergency you imagine.”

“You’re much calmer than you ought to be about the thought of your daughter screaming in pain.”

“It’s not going to traumatise her for life. But it _will_ screw her up if she never does anything fun because it might be dangerous. It’s about teaching her the balance between risk and reward.”

“How can you be so composed? I spend half my time worrying about her getting grazed knees and the other half considering who amongst the Nine she can be betrothed to when she comes of age.”

“She’s two, husband.”

“She is a princess. Even on Midgard I believe your royalty used to start planning early.”

Nat frowned thoughtfully. “Who are your candidates?”

“King Eitri has some sons but I won’t put a grasping dwarf on the throne of Asgard, even if it lowers their prices. An elf would be a good choice, peaceful, intelligent. I don’t think it wise to pair her with a human; any children they sired would be even less capable compared to their subjects, and-” he trailed off as Natasha finally burst into giggles, “And you are teasing me.”

“Yeah. Give her a few years to figure out who she is before you start thinking about grandchildren, alright?”

“I shall try. But it is my nature to consider every possibility.”

“Papa, papa!” Sigrid ran back to them, a pale flower in her chubby fist.

Loki swept her up onto his hip, jiggling her gently. “What have you found, my love?”

“Pretty flower.”

“Yes, it’s beautiful. Shall we put it in your hair?” he tucked the dark waves behind her ear affectionately.

“For Mama.” She held it out.

“A fantastic idea, Sigrid. A beautiful flower for a beautiful queen, hmm?” he moved closer so she could clumsily tuck the flower into Natasha’s braids.

“Mama’s pretty.” She smiled, resting her head on his chest.

“She is. You’re going to grow up just like her.”

“Not just like me, I hope.” Natasha muttered.

“I think of the two of us you’re a better role model.”

She arched a brow at him like he was crazy and continued down the path.

 

Nat put Sigrid to bed, kissing her brow before she tucked her in, and closed the door softly. The chambers were very quiet, the night outside still. She wasn’t sure what to do. There was a restlessness in her that wasn’t going to go away with reading or sewing or any of her usual pastimes. It was the feeling she’d always had whenever there was too long between missions, a sense that she was wasting time. She supposed it had been bred into her at Red Room but it was hard to ignore.

She found herself ambling towards Loki’s rooms, as she often did these days. It was good to talk to the god. He understood Midgard, and he understood her in ways the Aesir couldn’t. She was the queen and they were subjects before they were friends, but Loki would tell her she was an idiot to her face and laugh about it with her afterwards. He was the best company she had. It was unthinkable really, and it felt as natural as breathing.

She let herself in, looking around the empty chamber, conscious as always that they might not be alone. “Sire?”

“Tasha?”

She followed the voice into the bedroom. Loki appeared to be the Allfather, but he was only wearing a shirt and trousers and sitting at his desk with his feet on the edge in a very Loki-like pose. There was a mostly empty bottle of mead on the tabletop and a gold-rimmed drinking horn in his hand. The lamps were all out, the moon shining brightly through the open window.

“Are you okay?”

He rolled his head absentmindedly, eyes sad. “I am troubled.”

“By what?” she perched on the edge of the desk, skirts swishing softly.

“The usual things.” He smiled indifferently.

“Odin?”

“He is part of it, yes.”

She took the cup from him and poured herself a glass, sipping it slowly to let the warmth flow through her. “I think I know how you feel.”

“Are you melancholy too?”

“I feel…antsy. Like I need to kill something, see blood on my knuckles.”

“You are the queen-”

“I know, I know, I’m supposed to play nice and be ladylike. It’s just an itch. It’ll pass.” Nat shrugged.

“Shall I find Agmundr for you?”

“It’s late.”

Loki smirked. “You could always bloody your fists on me. I won’t tell.”

“Somehow the offer’s not as appealing as it would have been in the past.”

“Oh dear. Have we become _friends_ , Natasha?”

“I guess so. Fuck, I’m not much of a spy am I? Fraternising with the enemy.”

“I thought that’s what spies were supposed to do.”

She poured another glass, drinking most of it as she eyed him up. He was pretty tipsy, if not outright drunk. She didn’t see that often. Loki was usually more careful. He must have been in a dark place to risk someone walking in on him like this.

“Come on, comrade,” she topped herself up, “Let’s drink and pretend we’re far from all our worries.”

“Do you find it helpful?” he drawled.

“It doesn’t last but it works for a night at least.”

“Then pour me another, Romanov.”

 

They sat on the floor, Loki leaning against the end of the bed, Natasha against the desk. They’d emptied the first bottle and started on another, and Loki was actually laughing. Natasha liked seeing it on his face. She poured more mead for them both, dribbling it over her fingers in the process, and licked the sticky traces off with a giggle.

“How about we sneak into the city?” Loki smiled broadly, “I can conceal us both. We’ll find a tavern and start a brawl.”

“I don’t think you’re up for much brawling right now.” She kicked his foot.

“I’ve fought in worse condition before.”

“I don’t want to try to explain to the healers how Odin got his nose smashed in.”

“You doubt me?” he arched a brow, but instead of looking intimidating his smirk made it silly.

“Yeah. What are you going to do about it?”

He threw himself forward in a tumble of limbs, flattening her. Nat shoved him off easily, jumping on his back.

“Yield?”

“Never!” he popped out from under her, the redhead’s knees hitting the carpet. Loki reappeared across the room, smacking his head on a bedside table. “Ow.”

“That hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Wench.”

“Prick.” She grinned.

His gaze twinkled impishly and he disappeared. She waited for him to pop up behind her but he didn’t, the room eerily quiet.

“Loki?”

She turned her head slowly, listening. The moonlight grazed over a strange shimmer in the air and she smirked.

“Nice try.”

Nat tripped him, the god losing his grip on the invisibility spell as he fell. He huffed and she laughed, only to be yanked flat by a strong hand on her ankle.

“Yield?” he snickered.

“Never.” She fought to get her breath back.

Loki lay beside her, head pillowed on his arms. “Thank you. Even after all I have done, you still show me kindnesses I do not deserve.”

“We’re stuck together. It would be pointless to hate you now.”

“Then you don’t hate me? Truly?” he asked solemnly.

“We’re friends. You said so yourself. Maybe it’s in a fucked up, completely mental way but we’re both difficult people to get close to. I think this is as good as it’s gonna get for us.”

“I have never made friends easily.”

“That wasn’t totally your fault.”

“Perhaps.”

 

He looked away, and for some reason she lifted herself onto her elbow and shuffled closer until she could kiss him. Loki was too surprised to respond as her lips moved sloppily against his, the queen pulling away gently.

“What was that for?”

“We’re alone, Loki. It’s just…scratching an itch. It’s comfort.”

“It’s friendship?”

“Yeah, it’s friendship. Is that okay?”

He nodded. “I cannot expect you to go your whole existence like a nun.”

“Ditto. And lovers aren’t really an option. Too much scandal.”

“Love is for children.” He mused softly.

She thought of Sigrid and nodded. “Yes.”

She kissed him again and Loki twisted his fingers in her hair, marvelling at how long it had become over the few years she’d been in Asgard. She was like the goddess they would have called her on Earth, fire and ice and soft curves. He dragged her body tight against his and rolled over, grinding their hips together. Natasha gasped and plunged a hand down between them, cupping his groin with a hard squeeze. Loki groaned, pushing into her touch.

“Clothes off.” She murmured, fighting with the tiny numerous buttons on her gown. Loki tugged his shirt over his head and unlaced his breeches before she’d even gotten it half undone.

“This is why ladies have women to dress them.” He tutted, helping her slip the others free.

“This is what you have magic for.” She complained, wriggling out of the long heavy fabric.

“I could teach you if you like but it may take a few centuries. Midgardians aren’t very malleable.”

“I’ll show you malleable!” she laughed, pushing him onto his back roughly and dragging down his trousers. She closed her hand over his erection and stroked, the god tilting his hips with a moan. Natasha made sure he was hot and heavy in her hand before turning. She raised herself up and lined his head against her entrance.

“Natash-uh!” he groaned, hands on her hips as she slid down to the hilt.

The redhead smiled wickedly and leaned back until she was resting on his chest, rocking against him. Loki licked his lips and grunted, reaching a hand around to squeeze her breast before trailing it down her side and over the deep valley of her hip bones, circling her clit. Natasha let her fingers fall back and twist in his hair, tugging none too gently as Loki’s thumb brushed her button.

“Loki.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t stop.”

“Never.”

 

Nat didn’t think about it. She left early in the morning, nursing her headache with a magically aided hangover cure, and all she felt was satisfied. She knew exactly where Loki stood in her books and it was firmly in the ‘father of my child/friend with benefits’ category. He was too broken and there was too much history between them for him to ever be more but if she had to spend a thousand years with someone, he was as good as any.

She didn’t think about it for three weeks, until she was crouched over a bucket heaving up her breakfast while Kori patted a damp towel against the back of her neck.

“Oh mistress. Guðríðr’s gone to fetch the healer. I’ll send the food away.”

She couldn’t answer, too busy trying not to choke. Her whole body ached from shaking, her throat raw and bitter.

“Where is she?” the healer said, almost sprinting across the chamber. Kori moved aside, letting her take over.

“Has anyone told the king?”

“No. We thought it better to wait.”

“The princess?”

“She is with Lady Magnhild, just in case.”

“Your Grace? Your Grace, can you tell me how you feel?” the healer met her gaze.

Natasha shook her head, resting her brow on the edge of the bucket.

“I’m going to do a simple diagnostic spell. Hold still.”

“Not a problem.” She griped.

A cool feeling spread through her head and then down her body, circling around her stomach before it continued down through her legs and eventually out. There was a long silence and she burped, lifting her head.

“What is it?”

The healer was biting her lip. Nat sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Out with it.”

She hesitated again before smiling. “My lady, you are with child.”

“What?”

“You’re pregnant.”

“Don’t be…ridiculous.” Natasha leaned back against the bath tub. That night with Loki. Of course – why should she expect anything else? She’d had sex with the god twice and he’d managed to knock her up both times. It must be a record.

“Ah. I suppose we’d best tell the king then.”

“Oh my lady, he’ll be so pleased!” Kori gushed.

“So long as my lady is pleased.” Guðríðr said carefully, watching her as she pushed the bucket away.

“Why not? The more the merrier. It’s a bit late now.”

 

Sigrid was overjoyed at the idea of a brother or sister, though she didn’t really understand the concept properly. Loki found he got some bawdy knowing looks from the warriors.

“I think they believe I am a stud of sorts,” he laughed to Natasha, “Keeping my wife well sated.”

“Well the Allfather doesn’t look like the most active man, and here I am all young and vibrant. You can’t blame them for winking behind your back.”

“And you are certain you are pleased with this...unexpected turn of events?”

She shrugged. “Why not? It’s not like we’re on Earth and have to worry about making ends meet. You’re king of Asgard; we could have a dozen kids and it would be fine.”

“A dozen?”

“I’m not suggesting it!” she said quickly, “Just an example.”

*****

They were both a lot more relaxed about the pregnancy. Loki was confident they could conceal and handle the birth as they had before, and he did not have people whispering about needing an heir. After raising Sigrid he was certain he could care for another infant. Instead his thoughts turned to himself and Thor and the way they had spent their whole lives competing, even when the blond didn’t realise.

“I don’t want them to feel like they need fight for our affection.” He took a sip of his wine.

“What?” Natasha looked up from her needlework.

“I always felt as though I had to struggle to be noticed. Much of the discord between myself and Thor, and myself and Odin, would not exist if we had not been constantly compared and judged.”

“Loki, we won’t make that mistake.”

“How do we know? I am convinced all parents have favourites, even if they try not to.”

“You mean parents have kids that they can relate to better, that take after them more. That doesn’t mean you don’t love the others.”

“What if they don’t realise that?”

“The fact that you’re even asking this is proof you won’t let it happen.”

He looked away and muttered to himself, and she sighed. Natasha set down her sewing and came to perch on the arm of his chair, stroking her stomach.

“Remember how worried you were about Sigrid?”

“Of course.”

“And that was all crap, yeah?”

“I suppose.” He grumbled into his chest.

“Then trust me. We can do this.”

“I do trust you.” He took her hand.

Natasha smiled. “That would have been crazy not so long ago.”

“Things are...completely changed now.”

“Yeah.”

“For the better?” he asked tentatively.

“Ask me again when I’ve got two small children underfoot.”

 

She walked into the dining room and Loki didn’t even look up. “Good afternoon.”

“I’m in labour.”

“What?” the king frowned.

Natasha shut the door, leaning heavily on the wood. “I am in labour.”

“Oh. Are you sure?”

She glowered at him. “I think I know by now.”

“Of course. You didn’t tell your ladies?”

“I thought it would complicate things.”

He stood, abandoning his meal to wrap a hand around her waist. “Hold on.”

She closed her eyes and when they opened the pair were in Loki’s chambers, not a servant in sight.

“You can have the baby here. They won’t look for you with me and Sigrid won’t be scarred by accidentally walking in.”

“How considerate.” She said caustically, falling back on his bed.

He hurried to the sideboard and emptied his wash water into the basin, scrubbing his hands. Natasha took a long wheezing breath and settled the cushions under her more comfortably.

“You’re not still worried the baby will be blue, are you?”

“We can’t know.”

“My pregnancy was exactly the same as with Sigrid. No internal frostbite. It’s going to be fine.”

“We have to be careful.”

She didn’t push the issue as he moved between her legs.

“May I?”

“I think it’s a bit late to be asking at this point.”

Loki chuckled under his breath, lifting her skirts. His fingers probed gently, gauging how far she was dilated.

“How long did you know before you came to me?”

“Fifteen minutes. I’ve had contractions since this morning but they were weak.”

“It’s much faster than last time.”

“Good. A fast labour is a good labour.”

“I must agree. How’s your pain?”

“I want the drops. And I want double what you gave me for Sigrid.”

“I can’t give you that much, it will be dangerous for the baby.”

She muttered under her breath but didn’t object as he went to his dresser and found a small bottle of numbing drops, measuring out the dosage.

“Do you want me to tell you a story?”

“Please.”

 

Magnhild shook her head at the sight of Leifr in Natasha’s hands. “You are becoming an expert at this, majesty.”

Loki wrinkled his nose. “I would prefer to leave it in the hands of the midwives, truly.”

“He was amazing.” Natasha smiled tiredly.

“ _You_ were.” He rested a hand on their son. He looked a lot like Sigrid, dark hair and pale eyes but his nose was more like Loki’s and his lips more like Natasha’s.

“So tell me, have they started climbing the city walls yet?” the queen laughed.

Kori giggled, quickly covering it. “They are banging their tankards on the tavern tables, that’s for certain.”

“We may only hope they all pass out before we go deaf.” Loki rolled his eyes.

If Natasha’s first child had been feted and toasted, it was nothing compared to the din now. The palace rang with the sound of feasting and very, very drunk Asgardians. It felt like she was trapped in a heavy metal music video.

“Lady Magnhild, will you fetch us some wine? The queen and I should celebrate.”

She bowed and hurried out and he let his son wrap tiny fingers around his, the boy squeezing instinctively.

“A son,” Natasha looked up, “Are you glad?”

“It would not have mattered. I said Sigrid is my heir and I mean it. Leifr will not grow up as entitled as Thor, expecting a crown by default.”

“No child of mine is going to get a big head.” She agreed.

“Shall we introduce him to his sister?” Loki beamed.

“Let him sleep a bit before she starts doting on him.”

“Of course.”

She caught his hand. “I like seeing you this happy.”

“I like feeling it.”

*****

“Try again.”

Sigrid frowned in concentration and raised her hand above the pile of sand. Slowly, so slowly it didn’t seem to be moving, a single grain floated up off the floor. It hovered a few centimetres in the air and fell again.

“Very good!” Loki smiled, “Again.”

The princess called forth her magic, beckoning to the sand. A few more grains rose this time, reaching her eye level.

Natasha walked in and glanced between the pair on the carpet and the baby cooing in his crib in the corner. “Husband, may I have a word?”

He looked up guiltily at her tone. “Sigrid, why don’t you read this passage while I talk to your mother?”

She let the sand fall and took the book he offered, skimming the lines as Loki stood and made his way over.

“Tasha?”

“What have I said about teaching Sigrid this close to Leifr?”

“They are only elementary spells. Nothing I cannot contain if she slips.”

“And what if you don’t? You told me Frigga taught you in empty chambers – and that you still managed to demolish parts of them.”

He scuffed a toe on the floor. “Apologies. I merely thought to use our time to our advantage while I was here.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know what you were doing. You’ve got all this knowledge brimming up inside you want to share with them. And I don’t doubt that you can keep them both safe, I really don’t. Just consider what might happen as they get older and the spells get stronger, okay?”

“Very well. Shall I take her to the library to continue?”

“Alright. Remember to bring her back for dinner.”

“Sigrid!” he called, “Bring your book. We’re going for a walk.”

She scooped it up and stood, fluffing out her skirts. Natasha leaned down and kissed her forehead, ushering the girl forwards.

“Have fun with your father.”

“Bye Mama!”

He took her hand and they headed for the library, people bowing as they passed. Sigrid didn’t even seem to notice, chattering away about the spell.

“And I think I can decide how many bits float now. How long will it be until I can move bigger things? Could I learn to move horses? Buildings?”

“Even I do not think it wise to try either of those. And I know you will not be able to move larger and heavier things until you have mastered your control.”

“I’m trying!”

“And doing very well. Come, we will spend another hour or so on precision and then have some fun.”

“What kind of fun?” she squinted at him suspiciously.

“I shall take you to the kitchens to steal plums from the pantry, as long as you swear not to tell your mother.” He grinned.

“Yay!”

 

Natasha ushered Sigrid into the throne room, the girl climbing onto the dais ahead of her. Loki was already seated. He gave a small smile as she approached and leaned up to kiss his cheek before Natasha sat and tugged the princess into her lap.

“Why do we have to greet the dwarves, Mama?” she whispered.

“Because it’s important to show they are welcome.”

“Fenrir says the dwarves are greedy and smelly.”

Loki gave her a sidelong glance and Natasha pressed her lips together. “Then you won’t be playing with Master Fenrir in future. All people deserve your time, no matter what realm they come from. You can’t judge anyone based on race alone. And the dwarves are good people. They are expert smiths, great warriors and lots of fun. So you see? If you only listened to Fenrir, you’d miss out on hearing their songs, wouldn’t you?”

She grinned. “I like songs.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

Sigrid watched with interest as the dwarves made their entrance.

“Greetings, Allfather. Your Majesty,” the representative bowed to Natasha, “And Your Highness.”

The girl gave the gravest wave possible for a child and Natasha hid a proud smile.

“We are glad to have you here in our home, my lord,” Loki said, “And we invite you to feast with us.”

“Of course, Your Grace. We would be honoured.”

Sigrid looked up. “May I ask a question?”

Natasha bit her cheek. ‘Maybe I should ask for you.”

“Can they teach me their songs?”

She smiled. “My lord, Princess Sigrid has requested you share some of your melodies with her.”

The dwarf spluttered. “We would love to, Your Grace! The songs of Nidavellir are heartening and jolly.”

“Can Lord Halvdan sit beside me?” she asked, louder.

“If he pleases, though I think the Allfather wishes to speak to him.” Nat glanced at Loki.

“We have time for talk in the days to come. If Her Highness wishes to learn more about the dwarves, she shall.”

“May I have the pleasure of escorting you to the table then, princess?” Halvdan bowed, offering his arm.

She scrambled out of Natasha’s lap and descended daintily, putting a hand on his forearm and leading the procession out of the hall. Loki offered his arm to Natasha and she took it, following a little behind.

“We need to screen her playmates more closely.” She muttered.

“Don’t worry; it will be my new priority.”

 

Loki rocked Leifr for a few more seconds until he was certain the boy was asleep, laying him down in his crib. He tucked the blankets around his waist loosely and brushed the hair back off his forehead before turning to Sigrid.

“Good night, my darling.”

“Night, Papa.” She waved over the top of her book.

“Do not stay up too late.”

“I won’t.”

“Good, I shall be checking on you.”

He closed the children’s door and headed back into the main room. Natasha was on the couch, feet tucked under her and setting her slate back on the table.

“What had Barton to say?”

“The usual. Giant robots, Stark getting drunk at awards ceremonies.”

She patted the cushion beside her and he wandered over, sinking into the seat with a sigh.

“Long day?”

“Unbelievable. If I could, I’d abolish the whole Council.”

She leaned on his shoulder, curls brushing against his chin. “You can handle them. You could talk your way out of a paper bag.”

“Paper bags are not difficult to escape.”

“A canvas bag then.” She giggled.

He wondered at this woman, a former enemy, sitting against him so comfortably and trusting – making _jokes_ for Odin’s sake. How had Loki managed to win such a suspicious, observant woman over? And it wasn’t just Natasha; he had two small children that thought he was the be-all and end-all. Loki was gripped with a paralysing fear that one day they’d wake up and see him clearly and run for the hills.

“Get out of your head.”

“You can tell?”

She snorted. “I used to be a spy. Wow, that’s an odd thought. Used to be.”

“Did you prefer it?”

She looked up at him. “I don’t think so.”


	6. Chapter 6

Loki smiled as Sigrid climbed into his lap, Natasha perching on the arm of the throne with Leifr on her hip.

“Did you have fun at your lessons?” he asked the girl, kissing her nose.

“Geirr made paper boats and we raced them in the fountains.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a lesson to me.” He scolded.

“I’m sure it was all about physics and aerodynamics, right Sig?” Natasha smiled.

“Yes Mama.”

“Hmm.” Loki tickled her, rolling his eyes.

A guard bustled into the hall and looked around, running over the second he spotted them. He dropped to one knee before the throne.

“Your Grace, Prince Thor is marching through the city with an army of Midgardians.”

“What?” Loki felt cold for the first time in his life, fear shooting up his spine like ice.

“How many?” Nat snapped.

“A hundred. They’re almost at the palace.”

She glanced at Loki but he was staring into the distance, mute. “Leave us.”

“Should we hold them at the gates?”

“No. Prince Thor is not our enemy.”

The guard bowed and walked back the way he’d come, and she grabbed the god’s shoulder.

“Loki. Loki!”

“Hmm?”

“You have to go. If there’s anywhere in the Nine you can hide, do it, and if you can’t just run as far away as possible.”

“It’s no use. There is nowhere my brother will not pursue me to get Odin back.”

“You can’t stay here. They’ll kill you.”

“Once upon a time you would have enjoyed that.”

“Once upon a time we didn’t have two small children relying on you to look after them!” she hissed.

“Mama?” Sigrid frowned, “What’s going on?”

“You should take them from here. If Thor offers violence, they may not be safe.” Loki stood, taking the girl’s hand and holding it out to Natasha.

“We’re not going anywhere. You’re forgetting again what kind of queen I am, Loki. I won’t sit around waiting for other people to decide my fate.”

“You can go, or I can force you to.” He scowled.

“Try me.” She stuck her jaw out.

“Natasha,” he caught her face in his hands, “We do not need to pretend that you love me. Whatever happens to me is of no consequence provided I know the children are safe. Please go.”

 

She shook her head. “I told you before Sigrid was born that I’m not leaving and I meant it.”

“At least get out of the line of fire then, you foolish woman!”

“No.”

Loki gave a shriek of frustration and she smiled.

“You knew what you were getting into when you married me.”

“I had hoped by now you would be a little less obstinate.”

The grand doors smashed open and the children flinched, Natasha hugging Leifr closer to her as Sigrid grabbed her skirts. Thor stood at the head of a column of SHIELD agents, Clint at his side.

“Loki!”

The trickster smiled wryly and let his illusion slip away, facing them as himself. “Brother. I see you’ve finally taken it upon yourself to come home.”

“I have come to end this, brother.” Thor lifted Mjölnir.

“For curiosity’s sake, what finally drew you away from your beloved Midgard?”

One of the agents stepped forward. “I found him.”

“Odin.” Loki breathed, almost winded by the shock as the man changed form.

Natasha wasn’t particularly awed by the king. She’d technically seen him every day for years, and though there was an added element of power to the real version it wasn’t that impressive compared to what she knew of the man’s flaws. His eyes raked over them, warriors tense at his back, and the side of his mouth curled menacingly.

“So. It has come to this, Loki.”

The Jotunn looked at his children and Natasha, and knew what he had to do. He walked until he was within arm’s reach of the older god and fell to his knees.

“Odin Allfather, I submit myself to your punishment.”

Natasha was stunned. When they heard Thor was coming, she’d thought Loki would try to convince him he really was Odin, and now he was offering himself up - no resistance, no excuses. Even the Allfather looked amazed.

“You admit your crimes?”

“I do. I cast you out and stole your throne. I am ready to accept whatever you command.”

“These are your wife and children?” Odin waved to them.

“Lady Natasha, Sigrid and Leifr,” He nodded, “They have no part in my treachery. My only request is that you place no blame or dishonour on them for my sins.”

If Natasha ever needed proof he wasn’t the same Loki he’d been on Earth, there it was. And it made it that much easier to step between them.

“Loki, get up.”

 

“Nat, what are you doing?” Clint frowned, moving out of the solid black line with his bow in hand.

“There are things you don’t understand, Clint.”

“I understand Loki tricked you into marrying him and raped you.” He snarled.

“No he didn’t. He never once forced me,” she switched her gaze to the Allfather, “He’s been a good husband and father, and as king he’s done everything possible to protect his people. He deserves some credit for that.”

“You are in love with him.” Odin said distastefully.

“No,” she said firmly, “But I can tell you he’s not the same person you knew.”

“It is true that I coveted the throne,” Loki looked up, “And took it by force when I couldn’t by law. But that old ambition is past. Everything, everything I have done since the moment of Sigrid’s birth, has been for Natasha and my children.”

Thor came closer, hammer still very much in his hand but lowered for the moment. “Is what you say true, Lady Natasha? Loki never violated you? He never spelled you?”

“The only spells he’s ever cast on me were ones I asked for. I’m not under any influence or coercion. Loki’s different now.”

“This is bullshit, Nat,” Clint shook his head angrily, “You sound like a Stockholm Syndrome textbook.”

“If Loki truly changed, why did he not admit his treason earlier?” Odin glowered, “Why did he not bring himself to me, if he claims to no longer desire my crown?”

“I knew you would punish me, and I was not selfless enough to give up my family to make things right.”

Odin was silent as he looked at them, Nat’s body mostly blocking Loki from view. He ran his tongue over his teeth, staring at her. “Family is not a word I have heard you use since before Thor’s banishment.”

“Father,” Thor growled, “He has betrayed us. He has betrayed our people, and he has stolen Lady Natasha’s life!”

“Which would not have happened if you hadn’t run off to Midgard,” Odin said coldly, “And all of which are very serious. I am not taking them lightly, Thor. I am only taking all the facts into account before making my judgement.”

“As much as it pains me to say,” Thor hissed through his teeth, “There is only one punishment fitting for dethroning a rightful king.”

“Your mother told me once that if I killed Loki, I would always regret it.”

“And look what he has done to repay your mercy!”

“Thor is right,” Loki hung his head, “I was not the son I should have been for her. If you think the realm safer with me gone, never again to threaten your existence, I will accept it.”

“Well I don’t,” Natasha snapped, “I’m not raising my children without their father. They deserve to know you.”

“I am Odin Allfather, son of Bor Burison, Defender of the Nine Realms and _King_ of Asgard,” he bellowed, “You may wear the crown but you are not my queen!”

“Good, because between you and Loki I’d pick him every time. At least he has a heart underneath all the baggage you gave him.”

 

Thor’s eyes bulged, flying to the Allfather fearfully, but Odin didn’t outwardly react. He pressed his lips together tightly and hummed.

“You truly think he could ever redeem himself for such atrocities? For the lives he has taken or reshaped to his own will? Even the children you claim he loves were forced on you, if not by violence then by some persuasion.”

“When Loki found out about his parents, he lost himself. He hurt a lot of people while he tried to figure out what it meant. What he did to Earth and to Asgard, what he did to Clint,” she caught the archer’s eye, “Those things are awful and unforgivable. But he knows they were mistakes. He regrets them. He wouldn’t make those same choices a second time around, I’m certain of it. I think letting him try to make amends is better than punishing him – for everyone.”

“So he should be allowed to get away with what he has done, with no repercussions? No justice for his victims?”

“Will it bring them back?” she said seriously.

“Nat, how can you even say that?” Clint shook his head.

“I’ve killed people. Hundreds. And you were sent to kill me but you didn’t. You thought I could change, that I could make up for some of it even though we both knew it would never be enough. Why should Loki be any different?”

“Loki is dangerous.”

“I’m dangerous.”

“It’s not the same.”

“It is, and you know it. You just don’t want to see it.”

Odin raised his voice. “I will not decide now. Loki, you shall be placed in the dungeons until I reach my judgement.”

“Yes, Allfather.”

“We’re going with him.” Natasha said.

“Do not be a fool, girl. The dungeons are no place for children.”

“Then let him stay in our rooms under guard.”

“So you can help him escape?”

“He could have done that any time and he hasn’t. I’m sure you can lay down spells even he can’t break if you’re really worried.”

“Fine. Thor, escort Loki and Lady Natasha to her rooms and keep them there.”

“She’s not a prisoner.” Clint said quickly.

“She is not an ally at this moment either, Barton. The lady has said herself that she is dangerous, and she is loyal to Loki. I am not taking chances.”

“It’s fine, Clint.” She gave him a reassuring look.

“Take them away.”

Several guards and SHIELD agents surrounded the group as Loki stood. Sigrid offered him her other hand and he took it, the four of them moving towards Natasha’s rooms with Thor shadowing them grim-faced.

Loki frowned at the redhead. “It was foolish of you to intercede on my behalf. Odin will not budge. He will do as he must.”

She glared at him. “Don’t you dare give up. I will do whatever it takes to change his mind.”

 

People stared as they passed through the halls, Loki cringing as the nobles and servants started whispering. Natasha gave him a stern look and a nudge, and he held himself a little straighter. The ladies stood as soon as the group entered Nat’s quarters, Magnhild frowning.

“My lady?”

“Prince Loki!” Kori gasped.

“Prince Thor?”

“What is going on?”

“You will have to leave, gentlewomen,” Thor said, “These rooms are being turned over to confinement.”

“I will explain everything when I can.” Natasha assured them.

The Aesir looked at her and then back to Thor’s stormy countenance, gathering up their things. Thor cleared his throat.

“Have you need of anything for the children?”

“No.”

“Then I will depart. Do not test the bounds of the Allfather’s patience, Loki.”

“I didn’t plan on it.”

Thor gave Nat another confused look and left, the doors shutting behind him.

“Mama, what’s happening?” Sigrid put her finger in her mouth.

The Russian set Leifr down on the couch and knelt in front of her. “Your papa isn’t really the king. He took something that didn’t belong to him and now the Allfather wants it back.”

“Why did he do that?” she looked at Loki.

“I was angry, my darling. I wasn’t thinking straight. It was wrong.”

“Are you going to be in trouble?” she whispered.

“Perhaps, but do not worry. Mama will look after you no matter what.”

He looked at Natasha and she took his hand, acknowledging the truth left unsaid.

*****

They tried to stay cheerful for the princess’ sake, downplaying the tension. They ate supper and played games and read books and put the children to bed, Natasha singing one of her favourite folk songs until their eyes drifted shut.

She walked into the main room to find Loki sitting on the couch, face in his hands. She sat beside him, putting a hand on his knee.

“I wish you could have gotten here without all the backstabbing and lying. You’re actually a decent guy you know.”

“I do not think I would be half as normal without you around to kick me in the pants every time I am slow.”

She sighed. “I could use a drink. You?”

“It sounds apt.”

Natasha looked him over, aware this was almost certainly his last night. She moved the hand on his leg higher, leaning in to kiss his neck.

“What are you doing?”

“Comforting. That’s what we call it, isn’t it?”

“I am afraid I have no stomach for it.”

“Loki,” she breathed, running a finger along his jaw, “This is it. This is all we’re going to have. I’m not giving up on the idea that Odin might change his mind, that we still might be able to save you, but realistically we both know it’s not likely. I don’t want this night wasted on self-recriminations and sadness. Will you give that to me?”

He leaned into her touch, eyes closing. “I want to.”

“Then stop thinking and do it.”

“How?”

She tilted his jaw towards her and kissed him, and Loki ran his arm down to the small of her back. Natasha climbed into his lap, fingers quickly knotted in his long black tresses as they opened up and let their tongues twist together. He was cold when he touched her and she was struck with the thought that maybe it took a frost giant to melt a Russian heart. In that moment she wasn’t in love with Loki but he owed her a debt, and she wasn’t going to let him off without paying.

He leaned forward, bending until her back was against the couch. Loki kissed his way down her neck and over her collarbones, long fingers slowly unlacing the front of her bodice. He lifted the fabric back to swirl those same digits over her soft pale skin, the magic taking over for him, laces continuing to unravel.

Natasha had been with plenty of guys and known it was the last time – marks, lovers she knew she had to leave. This was the one she tried to memorise, the one she wanted to look back on later even if it broke her heart. Her goodbye for the foolish prince and her last queenly kindness.

 

Loki gave a gentle tug and the two sides of her gown came apart, leaving her exposed. Once she might have felt vulnerable in that hungry green gaze but not anymore. Loki trailed his fingers over her sides and hips, the flesh cool enough to make her shiver. He pressed his lips to her bent knee and lifted it by the ankle, straightening the limb as he made his way down. He rested it against his shoulder as he placed gentle kisses along the sensitive skin of both thighs, the touches brief and tickling. The god’s eyes locked with Natasha’s as he brushed a fingertip over her clit, the redhead lifting her hips with a sigh. He didn’t use much pressure, keeping the contact feather light and teasing. She smiled.

“Tease.”

“No sense rushing the finer things.” He grinned back, the expression not quite reaching his eyes.

Loki’s fingers moved to her entrance and dipped in slightly, drawing the slickness over her folds. Natasha gasped and gripped his arm, bunching the fabric in her fingers. Loki breached her again and lowered his head, cold tongue flicking across her core.

“Shit!” she arched up. His touch was electric, like tiny shocks through her nerves. He swiped the tip over her button and Natasha swore as the shocks started again. They were stronger than anything she’d ever felt before, and when she glanced down she saw a silvery gleam coating his tongue.

“Jesus Christ, _this_ is where that nickname comes from?”

“Are you upset I have been holding out on you?” he winked devilishly.

“You should have done this on our wedding night. I’m pretty sure I would have caved right away.”

“Perhaps that is why I didn’t. I did not want a brainwashed wife.”

His fingers slowly curled within her as his tongue danced along her sensitive, swelling flesh. The magic was a presence she could taste in the back of her throat, marzipan and honey and something slightly metallic. It trickled through her limbs, running out from her spine, and Natasha let herself moan and thrash a bit more than usual.

“This is totally unfair,” she gasped, “Magic is ch-cheating.”

He shunned conversation in favour of thrusting his tongue all the way inside her, cutting off Nat’s next words with a strangled yelp. The chilly, fluid swirling was good in its own right but the _magic_...the magic was going to scramble her brain and leave her comatose. Natasha was struck with the thought that if Loki had offered this treatment to all the Earth women, he’d be king of Midgard right now.

Long nails raked down her thighs and tickled the back of her knees and she shook, her whole body quivering violently. She bucked up into Loki’s face and snaked a hand in his hair, tugging ineffectually.

“Look at me.”

He flicked his green gaze upwards and she came with an explosive shout. Natasha soared out of her body on a silver wind, floating in a place that was all pounding heartbeat and soft breath and warmth. She drifted there, forgetting she had something to go back to. It was just so pleasant, no concerns, nothing but tingling and brightness.

 

“Natasha,” a hand stroked her arm, “Time to come back.”

She resisted but the bright happy place was hard to hold onto. It seemed designed to slip out of her grasp. She tumbled backwards, sighing regretfully, and opened her eyes to find Loki smirking at her.

“Fuck...what the hell was that?”

“Sexually transmitted magical euphoria.”

“It was intense.” She still felt lightheaded, limbs trembling slightly.

“I spent many hours there as a youth, but it can be dangerous if you don’t have an anchor. You can see how hard it is to leave.”

“Yeah, wow. I don’t know why you’d ever want to give that up for fucking reality.”

He glanced around at the room and the view beyond. “Sometimes I almost didn’t.”

She reached a hand up and stroked his cheek. “I don’t know if I should be glad or not. Maybe euphoria would be better for you than this, but if you hadn’t come back we wouldn’t have the children.”

“Do not be grateful for me, Tasha. You would have had children of your own, probably with someone you loved, someone who deserved you. Do not forget that I have been responsible for much death and pain.”

“So have I.”

“Perhaps we were meant to find each other then,” he smiled sadly, “Too broken for anyone else.”

She didn’t state the obvious, that after half a decade they were still too broken for each other, still not capable of love. It didn’t need to be said. Instead she unbuckled his jacket, sliding her hands into the shoulders to push it down his arms. Loki sat back and helped her, shrugging it off. She tugged his shirt free of his trousers and unlaced them, hooking her thumbs in the waistband until she could get them over his hips.

He was already straining and swollen, shaft hot in her hand. Natasha stroked, eyes on him. Loki was breathing in shallow, raspy bursts, like he was trying to stay calm. She wasn’t having that.

“Kiss me.”

He leaned down and touched their lips together, her thumb circling the flushed head of his cock. Loki gasped and Nat bit his lip, tugging again. Her hand was relentless, the caresses always on a different spot, her movements insistent.

“Natalia.” He purred.

She had to get him out of his head. Nat curled her legs around him and pulled, rocking Loki’s hips forward until she could position him against her entrance. She thrust upwards, taking him to the hilt in one swoop. His eyes bulged and tried to shut as he leaned on his hands, but Natasha cupped a hand around his cheek.

“Don’t close your eyes. Stay with me, alright?”

 

He nodded weakly and she flexed her muscles, squeezing him with both her thighs and her passage. Loki seemed to remember what they were supposed to be doing, lifting himself up and rolling his hips. Nat let him slowly press her down into the cushions, gripping him close as the god moved. Her hands swept over his shoulders and neck, their gazes locked. She could see every twitch in his normally controlled face, every aborted gasp and moan. She could see the wonder as he looked at her and tried to relax her own expression, letting him in.

Loki’s eyes widened and he rested his forehead on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Shush, don’t be.” It was too late to apologise anyway.

“I am, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I never should have brought you here.”

He mumbled it like a mantra as he pushed into Natasha. She combed her fingers through his hair and spurred him on, meeting his thrusts, curling herself against the god’s pale, cool skin. The friction sent sparks up into her lungs, making it hard to breathe. She felt like she was in a sauna, the air too hot and humid, and the only comfort was Loki’s body.

“Loki, Loki!” she lifted his head in her hands, panting now.

“Tasha?” he slowed, frowning in concern.

“Don’t stop.”

He fell back into the rhythm, drawn-out and firm. Natasha looked at the lean, agile lines of him and wished they’d sparred more. Some of her favourite memories with Clint were crashing together after a rough mission, the blood still on their hands, adding bruises to the ones they already had. She would have liked to see Loki like that. Would the thrill have made him more gentle, or less?

Loki faltered for a second and she knew his thoughts were intruding again. Natasha could see his gaze drifting and she clutched at his shoulder. “ _Stay with me_.”

He half-raised a brow at the growl but smiled. “I am not going anywhere.”

“I should hope not, husband.”

He stopped again and she cursed internally. But his look was one of mostly awe, the doubt only a hint around the eyes. “You said that wasn’t true in private.”

“I changed my mind.”

“I am not worthy of the title.”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. You’re my husband, and I’m your wife. Here and everywhere.”

“Even with the axe hanging over my head?”

“Til death do us part.”

He choked back a cheerless laugh. “Then you will truly be a widow.”

This was the exact opposite effect she’d wanted from that comment. Natasha scowled.

“Don’t write yourself off yet.”

 

She rolled, shoving him onto the floor underneath her. Loki winced at the clash of their bones and then Nat was riding him into the carpet, hands clenched against his chest. Before she might have provoked his enthusiasm with talk of being the king, power being an aphrodisiac for pretty much every man she’d ever met and especially for the trickster, but with the return of Odin that seemed like another touchy subject. So she didn’t say anything, simply lifting herself up and down his shaft until Loki’s eyes lost their pained look and turned glassy with lust. His hands closed around her hips, helping drive her down harder, and she grinned wolfishly.

“Fuck me, Loki.”

He snarled and bucked up, her knees grazing across the floor, her hands pinning him flat. She could feel her climax spiralling through her vertebrae like prickling static, heat rolling across her chest.

“Tasha!” his mouth fell open, grip tightening until her hips almost groaned with the pressure.

She threw her head back and ground down on him, chasing those last few inches until she came with a soft whimper, head jerking as her shoulders tensed. Loki hissed and followed suit, shifting his hold around her chest as he emptied himself inside her.

Natasha’s awareness came back fast, and she desperately missed the hazy euphoric state from earlier. She lifted herself off the god and rolled to the side, Loki’s arm automatically wrapping around her.

“Think we just conceived again?” he joked.

“With our past odds, probably.”

“My apologies. I am apparently more virile than we realised.”

“I’d be fine with it if you could be the pregnant one for a change.”

They lay there, the quiet hanging over them heavy but soothing. It kept the thoughts at bay for awhile.

“Do you think you can sleep?”

“Probably not. I am not sure I should waste the time I have left trying.”

“How about that drink then?”

“Please.”

She stood, wrapped a blanket from the couch around herself and found two glasses and a jug on the sideboard. She poured for them both, keeping her back to Loki to block his view of the cups. Natasha took a small vial from the top drawer and tapped two drops into his drink, quickly putting it away before she carried them over.

“My thanks.” Loki sat up, taking a sip. Natasha copied, sitting beside him where she could lean her head on the couch.

“What do you think Odin will decide?”

“There are two options. He will either order my execution by beheading, or he will devise some creative and eternal torture like having my innards dragged out of me and stuffed back in over and over.”

“Jesus Christ!”

“It is the Asgardian way.”

“It’s fucked up.”

“No one would dispute that I deserve it.”

“I do.”

He smiled sadly. “You don’t count.”

“Surely Thor won’t let him do that.”

“He may push for execution but at the end of the day it is Odin I have wronged, and his choice alone what is done with me.”

He took a larger gulp and she watched him carefully, the god blinking a bit. When he spoke again his words were slurred.

“I only wish I had never involved you in my problems.”

“I’m not gonna say I’m happy about it either.”

“You need not be concerned. Odin will never harm you or the children, no matter how angry he is with me. Thor will ensure you are looked after. He will most likely want you to stay close to him so that he may get to know Sigrid and Leifr, but whether that is on Midgard or Asgard may depend on Odin. For their sake, I hope it is Midgard. The world is not kind to the children of traitors.”

“No one is gonna say a word about them in my presence.” She muttered fiercely.

“You are...a good m-m-mother. Tasha?” he frowned.

She took the wine as he fell backwards, sticking a pillow under his head and covering him in the blanket. “Sorry Lokes.”

 

Natasha tipped both glasses out the window and found herself a night gown. She took the cover from her bed and settled on the couch next to Loki, watching him sleep. She wasn’t sure what she’d do without him. How was she supposed to raise two half-Jotunn children on her own? There was so much she didn’t know and couldn’t teach them, questions she couldn’t answer. They needed Loki. They needed someone who understood them. She laid awake for a long time looking for some loophole, some argument that would get them out of this, and came up with nothing that didn’t involve pissing Odin off more.

There was a knock and the door opened. She sat up sharply, wishing she’d thought to sleep with a weapon handy, but it was Thor who entered looking sad and lost. He didn’t seem to be armed but she knew with Mjölnir that meant nothing.

“Thor? What are you doing here?” she whispered.

“I must speak to you, Lady Natasha. I cannot sleep. My mind churns endlessly.”

“Alright.”

He glanced at Loki. “I do not wish to wake him.”

“We won’t. I put knockout drops in his wine.”

He smiled at her grimly. “I do not suppose there was any other way to calm him. I am surprised he didn’t suspect anything.”

“He trusts me.”

Thor walked around the sleeping god and sat beside her, keeping a respectful distance. “That is what I wanted to discuss. You and Loki...things are not as I expected to find them when the Allfather found me and told me of Loki’s deceit.”

“What did you expect?”

He gave her a pointed look. “Must I describe it? I thought I’d find Asgard under the oppressive rule of one who hates it, his wife little more than a slave to his whims as revenge for standing against him on Midgard.”

“When I first found out it was him, I sort of expected that too. But things are a lot more complex than you realise.”

“Tell me then.”

“Tell you what?”

“All of it. Every moment from the beginning.”

She made a face. “You’re not gonna like all of it.”

“It is not about what I like, Lady Natasha. It is about understanding.”

She sighed and started talking. She told him day by day everything she could remember, every time Loki had surprised her, every time she’d surprised herself, every time he’d been exactly what she expected. She told him about Idunn’s apple, how the children had been her idea, how she’d gone to him several times since then for company. Natasha talked until the sun started to peep over the mountains, the first golden rays washing across her windowsill. She realised that she hadn’t really had anyone to say all this to the entire time she’d been in Asgard, and to finally voice it and fully see the picture she was describing felt like the calm that returned to a lake after the ripples had passed.

“So you are not lovers, but you are fond of each other?”

“Yes.”

“And you considered him a worthy replacement for Odin?”

“I wasn’t happy about it, Thor, but I understood he couldn’t bring your father back without destroying our lives. I couldn’t make him do it if he didn’t want to.”

“And so you never told anyone. Barton tells me you were communicating with him and never said a word.”

“I swore I wouldn’t.”

He nodded. “I can imagine Loki’s rage would have been deadly if you had broken your promise.”

“That’s not why I didn’t say anything, Thor. I didn’t tell you he was here for the same reason he never returned the Allfather from wherever he sent him. We both wanted to keep our family together.”

Thor patted her leg. “Thank you for your honesty.”

He stood and walked out, leaving her to snuggle up under the covers. There was no point trying to sleep now. She might as well prepare herself for Loki’s anger when the drugs wore off.

*****

Clint nodded to the guards as they opened the door. Natasha and Loki were standing in the middle of the sitting room yelling at each other so loudly he raised a hand to his bow.

“How could you steal my last hours from me?”

“Do you really wanna have this argument, or do you wanna be with your children?”

He stuck his lip out but hung his head, turning towards the bedroom. Clint was impressed the god caved so quickly.

“Sorry to interrupt this lovely moment, but it’s time to go.”

“What?” Nat looked at him, “It’s only eight. How could Odin have reached a decision already?”

“Apparently he did.”

She glanced at Loki fearfully. He took her hands. “It will be alright, Natalia. Whatever happens, you will be safe.”

“She’ll be miles safer away from you.” Clint glared.

“Don’t.” the redhead muttered at him, shaking her head.

“I am ready, Barton. You may take me to Odin now.”

“Wait,” Nat grabbed his arm, “I’m coming with you.”

“I do not think it a good idea.”

“I’m not going to sit here and wait. I want to look Odin in the eye when he says whatever he thinks he needs to say.”

She hurried into the bedroom, closing the door. Loki looked at Clint almost apologetically, the expression turning more curious.

“I never expected her to keep it from you, you know. I imagined the second I gave her the tablet that she would call for help.”

“Nat’s stupid like that sometimes. Something about being Russian and liking lost causes. Tragedies.”

“Yes.” He looked down.

Clint laughed nastily, clapping his hands as his gaze wandered. “God, if I had it my way Odin would hand you over to me to take to pieces.”

“Perhaps he will.”

“I wouldn’t do it if he did.”

Loki frowned, head snapping up. “What?”

“I’m not an idiot, Frost-features. I know Nat better than anyone – well, you might be a contender for that claim now. But I know when she’s being sincere, and she wants to save you for her own weird ridiculous reasons. If I did what I want to and ripped your tongue out until you choked on your own blood, she would never forgive me.”

“Thank you then. I think.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he clenched his jaw, “I don’t always follow my better judgement.”

The bedroom door opened and Natasha emerged, both men gawking a little. She was wearing an immense silver gown, the bodice covered in green lace and hanging chains with emeralds at the end. She had sharp green leather armour sprouting from her shoulders and matching armguards. She wore her hair loose but held back with a tiara shaped like silver tree branches, more emeralds dangling from the edges.

“Holy shit.” Clint breathed.

“Yes.” Loki echoed.

“Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

 

Odin raised a brow when they swept into the throne room, his eyes skimming over Natasha as she stared right back with haughty and venomous intensity. Thor stood in full battle armour at his father’s side. Aesir with spears lined both sides of the room, the remaining space packed with the upper nobles of Odin’s council all glaring daggers at the prince. Loki made to drop to his knees again and Natasha grabbed his hand, not letting him.

“You stand with him even now.” The king said.

“Of course.”

“It is a shame you were caught up in this. You truly do have the makings of a queen.”

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming. She didn’t need praise from him.

“Loki Laufeyson, you are charged with the attempted murders of Prince Thor and myself, and the attempted devastation of Jotunheim and Midgard. You let frost giants into our weapons vault; you used the Tesseract to unleash an army to fuel your own selfish desires. You were spared for those crimes and yet as soon as you could, you escaped your punishment and usurped my throne. These are crimes of extreme and horrifying treason.”

The trickster’s fingers twitched in hers and Natasha squeezed, her heart beating too fast in her chest.

“The punishment for these offences can only be a merciful death or eternity in agonising torment. This is what any king would demand of a faithless subject. However,” he raised his voice, “I must make this decision both as a king and a father. It is something I have not done enough in the past where you are concerned.”

They both looked up, Nat’s eyes burning with a desperate hope.

“It is clear that you have done nothing in your time as king that we would not have done ourselves. You have not endangered the people of the realm, and have indeed helped them prosper. You have taken a wife through trickery, but treated her well enough that she defends you despite your effrontery. You have children that by all accounts you love and nurture.”

There was murmuring through the hall now, a few angry voices rising above the din. Clint had his arms firmly folded but his face was restrained, mostly calm.

“Your brother, who you have often spurned despite his devotion, claims to believe you have changed and that you would have reversed your actions if not for the fear of retribution. He calls for leniency. I do not consider a lack of courage to be anything that should be commended or rewarded, but I take his recommendations seriously.”

Nat threw Thor a grateful look and he nodded very slightly.

“I have considered all that you have done, for good and through your malice, for Asgard and against it. This is my decision. Loki Laufeyson, you are stripped of your magic.”

He gasped, a great shuddery breath, knees buckling. Natasha let him go this time, unable to look away from the Allfather.

“You are stripped of your position as prince of the realm, but you remain my son. You will stay in the city where I may keep an eye on you. If Thor chooses to remain in Midgard your children will take his place as my heirs, with the understanding you will not serve as regent should something happen to me before they come of age.”

“Do you accept these terms?”

“I do.” Loki said shakily.

 

Nat couldn’t believe it. She’d been expecting execution, expecting to watch them drag Loki out and know she’d never see him again, that she would have to explain to their children their father was dead. And now not only were they letting him live but he would be free. It was a miracle, and she almost thanked the Norns before catching herself.

Odin raised his hand and Loki pushed Natasha aside gently. The Allfather crooked a finger and the god screamed, head flying back as silver mist flowed out of his mouth. Nat dug her nails into her palms to keep from running to him. Thor’s hand tightened on his belt, and even Clint’s eyes widened as the Jotunn trembled and roared, his magic flowing into Odin’s palm. The last wisps trickled out with a choking sob and Loki collapsed, eyes rolling back.

“Loki?” Natasha dropped to her knees, lifting his eyelid and checking his pulse.

Odin looked unconcerned. “He will recover. Thor will help you get him to the lodgings we have prepared for you, and I shall send Agent Barton with your children.”

She wasn’t going to thank him. Even though he’d been more merciful than they’d had any right to expect, he was still the asshole who got them all into this mess with his hatred and lies. Thor descended from the dais and swung Loki into his arms. Natasha straightened, fixing her dress with a nod to the king. The crowd parting to let them through as if Loki was somehow infectious. Thor carried him outside to a waiting carriage, placing the unconscious god in the back before helping Natasha up and climbing in behind her, tapping the side to let the driver know they were ready.

The redhead reached across and took his hand. “Thank you Thor.”

“I only told Father the truth. It is he you must thank, for this decision will earn him much contempt amongst the court,” he frowned sadly, “And my brother will be disheartened by the loss of his magic.”

“He’ll learn to do without.”

“I do not think you understand, Natasha. Loki _is_ magic. His talents run naturally to sorcery and he has cloaked himself in power since we were children. He has not gone a day in the last five centuries without using spells as frequently as breathing. He will need help to adjust, to learn he is still worth something without that.”

She nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“And more than that, it was the last thing he shared with our mother. Without it he may feel she is lost to him forever.”

“Will you visit him?” she asked.

“Of course. I want to know my niece and nephew.”

She looked from him to Loki and back again. “What Odin said about you staying on Earth…is that what you want?”

“Yes,” he said quietly, “Yes, I want to stay with Lady Jane. I should stay here for a time to reassure the people all is well, but after that I will return.”

“Then my children will be his heirs. Leifr will probably be king someday.”

“Most likely.”

“I didn’t want that pressure for them after what it did to you and Loki.”

“I am sorry, lady sister. I would not ask it of a child either but I won’t pretend I’m not grateful to have an escape for myself.”

“Lady sister?” she grinned.

“It is what you are.” He smiled back.

They pulled up in a neighbourhood of decent houses, nothing like the palace but still clearly belonging to lesser nobility. The roof was gilded bronze and the walls a creamy white stucco, marble steps leading up to the front door.

“I was expecting something more like a hovel.”

“Father will not have his grandchildren living amongst the commoners because of their father’s sins. It would not do for a future king or queen to appear too humble. And it is closer to the palace, which will make it easier for them to take lessons with us.”

“Well tell him we appreciate the thought.”

“Come, I will help you get Loki inside.”

*****

Loki felt himself starting to wake, something cool and wet on his forehead. He let his muscles stretch, noting the ache that ran through his whole body and gnawed at his bones. He felt wrung out like wet laundry. His awareness brushed the space that should have held his magic and felt nothing, not even the cold sting of his Jotunn ice.

The god’s eyes snapped open and he sat up, clawing at his chest as if he could dig it out from wherever it was hidden. Hands grabbed his wrist.

“Loki, Loki, it’s alright. You’re alright.”

“He has taken it!” he looked pleadingly at Natasha, “He has yanked it out and left me hollow!”

“He had to do it, Loki. It was the only way he could let you live.”

“He would have done better to kill me than leave me like this.”

“Do you hear yourself?” she arched a brow.

“What am I without my magic? What do I have that is mine?”

“You have your _children_. You have a life with them.”

“But what kind of pathetic father will I be? I am not a warrior, Natalia, nor am I even a good frost giant. I am a trickster, a manipulator who uses words and double dealing. I was hated before and I will be openly despised now. How shall I defend us?”

“You don’t need your magic to take care of us. I’ve seen you fight, Loki, and you’re not as bad as you think. Stop comparing yourself to Thor. And I’m not exactly helpless. You don’t have to do it alone.”

He scanned her face, shoulders finally calming. “You will stay?”

“Why the hell would I want to go anywhere?”

“You are free of my ruse now. You do not have to be with me for appearances. You could find yourself a man of your choosing. We can raise the children without living together.”

She shook her head, wrinkling her nose. “I’m not a big fan of the brawny cavemen types around here.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

Loki smiled. “Then I guess we are stuck with each other.”

“I guess so.”

The god grinned and Natasha returned it for a moment before standing.

“You should eat something, husband.”

“If you think it wise, wife. Oh, and Natalia? Something I didn’t have time to mention before, with all the drama...”

“What?” her gaze narrowed.

“You’re definitely pregnant again.”

“For fuck’s sake!”


	7. Chapter 7

Sigrid sat on Natasha’s bed watching her mother unpack their trunks from the palace. Odin had sent all of their belongings except Nat’s jewellery and weapons, which she guessed was nice of him. She’d need to replace the knives though, and fast. She wasn’t exactly sure what their financial situation was now: would Loki get an allowance? Would Odin only provide for the children? There was no way the lie god would be able to find anyone willing to give him paid work, though Nat supposed she could find something if she needed to. It might be a good idea to sell her impressive gowns too, since she wasn’t going to need them – she had a feeling social pariahs didn’t get many dinner invites. She actually didn’t mind giving up her queenly lifestyle; she wouldn’t miss all the feasting and affluence, and it would be a relief to have some privacy for once.

“Why are we moving, Mama?”

“Because Odin is back and your father’s not the king anymore, sweetheart.”

“Am I still a princess?”

Nat tipped her head. “I think so. It’s complicated.”

“Where are Kori and Hildie and Rir?”

“They aren’t going to live with us anymore, my darling. I’m sure you’ll still see them at the palace though. And we’ll still have a couple of servants to help around the house.”

Sigrid hugged a pillow to her chest, bottom lip jutting out sadly. “Why is Papa in bed? Is he sick?”

Natasha sighed and sat beside her, pulling the girl into her lap. “He’s tired because Odin took his magic away. He’ll be better soon, after he’s rested. I need you to make sure your brother doesn’t disturb him. Can you do that?”

She nodded timidly. “Does that mean he won’t be able to teach me anymore?”

“I’m sure he can find a way to continue your lessons, and maybe Odin will show you some new things as well. I’m going to ask Geirr to stay on as your tutor, so it will be just like before.”

The princess frowned. “But it’s not like before, is it?”

The redhead tucked a stray curl behind her ear, stroking the girl’s cheek. “People are going to be angry with your father. They might be angry with you. But it’s not your fault, understand? You haven’t done anything wrong. If anyone tries to hurt you, or bully you, tell me right away and I’ll fix it. Promise?”

“I promise.”

Natasha kissed the top of her head and stood, taking her wedding sword out of the trunk. Its partner was missing.

“We need a sword for your daddy. Do you want to help me hang this one in the dining room?”

Sigrid nodded, sliding off the bed to take Nat’s hand, when there was a knock at the front door.

The Russian frowned. “Go play with Leifr.”

 

The girl went into the children’s room and closed the door, and Natasha crept towards the entrance with the sword in hand. She didn’t really expect anyone who bothered announcing their presence to be an assassin but there was nothing wrong with being careful.

She flung open the door, expecting a messenger from Odin, and frowned “Kori? What are you doing here?”

“I’m to live with you, my lady, if that’s alright.”

“Why?” she frowned, “I’m not the queen anymore. I don’t need ladies-in-waiting.”

“But your children are Odin’s heirs: it would be unseemly for them to be tended by common servants. The Allfather said someone must take the role of nursemaid. The three of us talked it over and decided I was the best for the task.”

“You’ll ruin your good name,” Nat shook her head, “Your parents can’t possibly approve of this. And it will hurt your marriage prospects. I can’t ask you to drag yourself down with us.”

“You’re not asking – I am happy to be of service. I’m too young to be thinking about husbands, my lady, and it’s not a bad position really. If you’ll forgive my honesty, your husband is the disgraced one. Your children still hold favour in the court. And I hated to think of you alone. I wanted this, truly.”

Natasha threw her arms around the other woman, holding her tight for a moment before pulling back with a sniff. “Thank you.”

Kori smiled. “It’s no trouble, my lady.”

“I think we can do away with the title. I’m not lady of anything anymore. You can call me Natasha.”

The Aesir frowned. “It sets a bad example for the children.”

The former spy shrugged internally. She wasn’t going to change centuries of Asgardian manners overnight. “Alright. Let me take your things and we’ll find you a room. The kids will be glad to see you.”

“And I them. They are a credit to you, mistress. I look forward to helping as best I can.”

“Uh, about that,” she smiled, “I think I’m really going to need your extra pair of hands for a couple of months. I’m with child again.”

“Truly?” Kori beamed, “This is wondrous!”

“I guess.”

“Oh, I am overjoyed Odin was merciful, for no child should be born without its father present.”

The redhead frowned. “You don’t have a problem with that? Loki being, well, Loki? Lying to everyone?”

“I am distressed, as all Aesir are, to learn our king has been alone in exile for so long,” Kori admitted, “Odin Allfather did not deserve such treachery. But I have been placed closer to Loki than most over these past few years, and I have seen how he acted with you and the children, and in his duties. I do not think he is a bad man.”

“He’s not. Not completely.” Nat nodded.

“May I ask a delicate question, my lady?”

“Sure.”

“Did you know?”

The human pursed her lips. “Since our wedding night.”

“Ah,” Kori said softly, “That must have been a shock. Do you…have fond feelings for him, my lady?”

Nat smiled. “Not the way you mean it. We’re friends - good friends. Yes, I’m fond of him.”

The lady considered that with a nod, looking unsurprised.

“I should actually check on him now.” Natasha said.

“Of course. I’ll watch the children, if it pleases you.”

“That would be great.”

*****

By the next morning Loki was able to get out of bed, shuffling around the house like an invalid in his grey robe, arms wrapped around himself in a way that made Natasha’s heart hurt. Thor was right; Loki seemed like less of a person without his magic, and she hadn’t realised before how much he relied on it as part of his identity. She worried he was going to have another breakdown. That was unacceptable – they had two children to raise and a third on the way, and after he’d had a couple of days to process things she was going to make sure he got his head right, or else.

There was a contingent of Einherjar assigned to guard the house, though Nat wasn’t sure if they were supposed to keep angry mobs out or Loki in. They didn’t speak, maintaining their posts with silent judgemental expressions. The new servants were a pair of twins, Aslaug and Arnfinnr, who seemed efficient in a gruff way and gave Loki sidelong glances as they passed. They weren’t overly hostile though, so Natasha wasn’t concerned about potential mutiny.

They’d just finished breakfast when a guard entered and bowed stiffly.

“There is a messenger from the Allfather, my lord.”

Loki glanced at Natasha wearily. “Send him in.”

The Einherjar nodded and waved through a familiar little man in palace livery.

“It’s Erik, isn’t it?”

He ignored her with a sniff. “His Majesty King Odin requires the presence of Lady Natasha Aliansdóttir.”

“Why would he want to see me?” she frowned.

The messenger arched a brow. “It is not for me to question the Allfather.”

She restrained the urge to punch him in his disdainful mouth and turned to Loki, biting her lip. “I don’t think I should blow him off.”

He gave a wry smile, dropping his voice so Sigrid couldn’t hear. “No, that would be impolite after he went to so much trouble not to kill me.”

“Any idea what it might be about?”

“None. At the very least I’m sure it will be an interesting discussion.”

“You’ll be okay?”

“I shall not perish while you are gone.” The god rolled his eyes.

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” Natasha kissed Sigrid’s head, “Keep an eye on your dad for me, alright? I’ll be back soon.”

Kori rocked Leifr gently, glancing around until she caught Aslaug’s eye. “You, help my lady change into something suitable.”

“I don’t think it matters-” Nat started, trailing off when she saw the determined look on the blonde’s face, “I’ll be right back.”

 

Aslaug may have been silent but her hands were steady, rapidly lacing Nat in a long purple gown with silver lace along the neckline. They didn’t have time to do anything with her hair but the Russian didn’t mind; she wasn’t exactly making a social call.

They’d brought a horse to take her up to the palace, and extra guards. Erik moved to help her into the saddle and she glared at him, mounting up by herself. The household security opened the front gates and Natasha caught her breath. There was a crowd of Aesir lined up along the edge of the street, staring silently at the house.

The captain of the escort noticed her tight-lipped frown and cleared his throat. “The Allfather sent men to move them along, my lady, but they keep coming back.”

“King Odin will not tolerate disorder in the streets.” Erik sniffed again.

“They are unarmed,” the captain shrugged, “They simply wish to see Lord Loki.”

Natasha tightened her grip on the reins. It made sense; the Asgardians had spent the last six years thinking he was dead, only to learn he’d been hiding in plain sight the whole time. They needed to see it to believe it. She was just worried that when the shock wore off, it would be replaced by anger.

“Let’s not linger in the doorway then.” She said brusquely.

The captain’s men formed a circle around her and they rode into the street, the gates closing swiftly behind them. The crowd petered out once they moved up the hill, but there were still plenty of people around who stopped to stare as Natasha passed. A few of them spat on the pavement. She could deal with that; it wasn’t the first time she’d been hated after all, though at least on Earth she’d actually done something to deserve it. If the Aesir thought she was a willing accomplice or  in love with Loki, she wasn’t going to waste her time arguing with them.

They reached the palace, servants pausing to watch as they dismounted. The escort captain gave them a baleful look and they hurried back to their chores.

“We leave you with the messenger.” He bowed, leading his troops away as ostlers took the horses.

“The Allfather is in his study.” Erik gestured for her to follow.

It felt strange to walk through the halls and find everything had changed overnight. The palace had been Natasha’s home for years, and now the servants wouldn’t meet her gaze; the nobles sneered or whispered, sidling away like she was contagious. She held her head up and breezed past like they were part of the wallpaper, biting her tongue as a reminder to keep her face blank.

They reached the king’s suite and the messenger knocked on the open door, a steward coming to answer.

“That will be all, Erik. Lady Natasha, His Grace is waiting.”

“Well we can’t have that.” She raised her brows, sweeping into the chamber.

Odin sat with a thick stack of papers in front of him, rubbing his shoulder as he read. Natasha stopped in front of the desk, clasping her hands genteelly. He didn’t move, eye skimming the page. She could feel her cheeks starting to heat up with annoyance. He was putting her in her place, making it very clear she had no power anymore. It was transparent and unnecessary – she was well aware how things stood. She might have been relying on this man’s good will to keep her family in one piece, but she wasn’t going to let him dictate the terms of their relationship.

“You sent for me, Your Grace?”

 

He sat back with a tired groan, resting his fist on the table as he studied her. “I did. Sit.”

Nat pulled out a chair, taking a moment to straighten her skirts. Maybe she could go back to practical clothes now she wasn’t the queen - Sif got to wear breeches, so it wasn’t unheard of. Natasha added it to her mental to-do list and looked at Odin expectantly.

“There are things to be discussed relating to the management of your household and the standing of you and your family.”

“I thought there might be. Thank you for seeing me so quickly.”

“It is better if we get this unfortunate business out of the way,” he frowned, “Firstly, I have no interest in upholding the existing agreement with Midgard by marrying you.”

She didn’t voice the sarcastic reply that popped into her head. “I completely understand. What happens to the alliance then?”

“It is not your leaders’ fault they entered into a bargain with the wrong man. I shall honour our arrangements as if I had extended them myself. There is no such requirement on your part; if you wish to be free of your marriage, I will dissolve it and return you to Midgard.”

“With my children?”

“They must remain. If Thor still renounces his claim to the throne and intends to live with the mortals, I need them here.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Consider my offer, Lady Natasha. Loki has made himself an enemy of the crown, and thus the people. Life here will be difficult for you both, and very different from what you’re used to.”

“I’m not going anywhere without Sigrid and Leifr.”

Odin huffed a laugh. “I’d expected as much. Very well. Then the prince and princess shall be recognised as my adopted grandbabes, with the rights and protection that entails. They will be educated in the ruling of Asgard and protection of the Nine Realms. Leifr shall be my official heir once he comes of age.”

“Sigrid is the eldest.” Nat pointed out.

“She is a woman.”

“We don’t let a little thing like that bother us on Midgard.” She stared him down.

“This is not Midgard,” the king glowered, “It matters not how capable she is. There will be trouble enough convincing the nobility to accept the half-Midgardian son of a Jotunn traitor, let alone his daughter.”

“Then send us back to Earth and find another heir.”

He ran his tongue along his teeth, and she knew they were thinking the same thing: there was no other heir. “Leifr has the position, and that is final. Princess Sigrid will have her own place at court in time.”

“You’re not using either of them the way you tried to use Loki and Thor.”

“I beg your pardon?” his face clouded over.

 

“With _respect_ , Your Majesty, I think there’s ample proof you haven’t been the best father, no matter how good your intentions were. You are not making one single decision about my children without our approval.”

“They must be shaped into worthy representatives of my house.” He scowled.

“Let me worry about the shaping. I’m trying to raise them to be decent people first, and strong rulers second.”

Odin smiled wryly. “You clearly haven’t learned anything about ruling in your time here.”

“I know it involves tough choices. I’m no stranger to those. But you can’t have a king without compassion, which I know you realise. After all, you spared Loki.”

“That was my judgement as a _father_.”

“Then you understand that as a mother, I care about their happiness more than I care about Asgard’s.”

The old god sighed and tapped one finger on the desk. “I do not intend to take them from you, Lady Natasha. You shall have a voice in how they are raised.”

“The loudest voice.”

“You would be wise not to push your luck,” he ground out, “You do not command this king anymore.”

“I want my feelings to be clear, so there’s no confusion later.”

“And I acknowledge them. May we proceed?”

She gave a non-committal shrug and Odin leafed through his paperwork.

“Since I have decreed Loki is not to dwell within the palace, I shall see to it you are provided for. From what I am told, you have experience managing the royal accounts?”

“Five years’ worth.”

“Then I entrust you personally with a monthly stipend befitting the status of your house. I shall continue to compensate your servants and guards.”

“If you’ll excuse me, sire, I’d rather pay them ourselves.”

“I don’t see that it makes a difference, if I am the one filling your purse.” he raised a brow.

“Loki has enemies, now more than ever. I don’t want anyone in our home I don’t trust, and paying people makes them a lot more loyal.”

“I would not allow anyone to endanger my kin.” Odin said in an offended tone.

“You can’t be everywhere at once, Allfather.”

 

He leaned back, stroking his beard. “You speak true. Fine – I shall convey their wages to you directly. It matters not to me who hands them over.”

“And if I catch them spying for you, I will dismiss them.”

“You accuse me of such underhandedness?”

“If I was you, I’d want to keep an eye on Loki. But we’re not playthings, Your Majesty. Our business is our own.”

“I assure you I have not employed them to carry me your secrets.”

He sounded sincere, but Nat knew that meant nothing. Odin didn’t need human spies when he had his ravens, and Heimdall, and his spells. She couldn’t do anything about it though, especially without Loki’s magic.

“I’m hoping Geirr can continue as Sigrid’s tutor.”

“He has already been told to pack his things. I think it safer if he stay with you – the children should not travel outside your walls unnecessarily until people have adjusted to the situation.”

The redhead nodded. Keeping them close made her feel a lot better too. “There’s something else you need to factor into your plans. I’m pregnant.”

She took immense delight in the Allfather’s astonishment. “It is Loki’s?”

“I’m going to pretend I don’t know what you’re implying.” She said, voice steely.

Odin chuckled mirthlessly. “You cannot blame me for my misgivings, Lady Natasha. You are not exactly besotted with my son; why shouldn’t the babe be another’s?”

“I haven’t touched anyone but my husband since our wedding.”

“You are an admirable woman,” the king looked thoughtful, “In many ways. Strong, steadfast, intelligent. I find you intriguing, Natasha Alainsdóttir. I think you’re a good match for Loki, however the two of you came to be paired.”

She didn’t know what to say. It was hard to believe Odin cared about either of his sons after everything she’d heard and seen, but then he’d shown unthinkable mercy to Loki when no one would have questioned his right to execute the mischief god. He must have some paternal feelings tucked away under all that beard and bad temper.

“Thank you. I wish we hadn’t started off so badly but I guess I would never have bothered to get to know him otherwise.”

“I believe that is an opinion you share with many people who have known Loki over his life.”

They were both silent for a moment as the Allfather seemed lost in thought, the sunlight framing his face in ways that made him seem old and tired. Natasha could see why it had taken him so long to claw his way back from exile; he was ancient, and he’d lost so much.

“I am glad to hear of the babe,” he said finally, “It shall be good to have these halls alive with the sound of children once more. I will charge your care to my best healers. And I shall make it known how things stand between myself and Loki, and how I expect him and his household to be treated.”

“I would appreciate it, Your Grace.”

“If you stop by the treasury on your way out, they will furnish you with your month’s gold.”

Natasha recognised it for the dismissal it was and stood, curtseying. “I imagine we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”

He gave a non-committal wave, and she let herself out.

 

Loki was lolling over the couch in their parlour when Natasha returned, a large wooden box in hand. She set it on the coffee table as he arched a brow.

“I was beginning to wonder if Odin had chained you up somewhere for defying him in front of the court.”

“I made my escort take a detour to the market on our way back.”

“I’m sure they were thrilled about that.”

The redhead shrugged. “I’m not going to let anyone think they can cow me into hiding behind our walls, and the more that people see me out and about the quicker they’d get used to it.”

Loki frowned, sitting up weakly. “I hope you are not being careless.”

“Am I ever?” she winked, “It helps that I used the trip to get these.”

She levered the lid off the box to reveal two sets of daggers in leather sheathes. Loki nodded approvingly, picking up a long thin knife.

“These are good quality.”

“The Allfather gave us some pocket money. There’s a set for you, and one for me.”

He traced a finger over the stitching with a grey expression. “You should not have to need them. I have failed you, and our children - I have made you targets for my enemies, and given up the only power I had to defend you.”

Natasha sat next to the god and viciously pinched his arm.

“Ahhh! What was that for?” Loki scowled, rubbing the injury.

“It was a wake-up call. Loki, I know magic meant everything to you, and it’s going to take you a while to adjust – probably years. But we don’t have time for you to mope around the house and blame yourself for things we can’t change. I need your help, and I need you to keep it together.”

“I am trying, Natalia. Am I not out of bed, engaging in the world?”

“Barely.”

“I can’t very well go outside, can I?”

“I’m not rushing you anywhere. You still need to rest up. But I know what you’re like when you’re broody, and I want to make sure you don’t slip into another world-ending downward spiral.”

The trickster scoffed. “Not that I have the tools to destroy a realm anymore.”

“So not the point, Loki.”

He gnawed at his bottom lip, avoiding her gaze. Everything was different now, but one thing hadn’t changed: he still trusted Natasha. And now he needed her, more than when she was merely good company. He was almost helpless without his magic, and he couldn’t protect himself, let alone the children. He wouldn’t’ survive without her.

The god sighed. “I shall try to keep my spirits up.”

“Good. I’ll be around to pinch you again if you forget.”

“Fantastic. Apart from stuffing our coffers, what else did the Allfather have to say?”

*****

Natasha was helping Loki braid his hair when Arnfinnr knocked on the bedroom door. She looked down at the liesmith expectantly but he said nothing, until she gave his hair a discreet tug.

“Yes?”

“Clinton of Midgard is here to see my lady.”

Natasha pressed her lips together tightly. “Show him into the parlour, I’ll be there in a minute.”

The servant bowed himself out, closing the door behind him.

“There was no need to be rough.” Loki scratched his head with a glare.

“Since when are you less than imperious with the staff?”

“Since I don’t feel very imposing. What does Barton want?”

She shrugged. “Probably to ask me if I’ve lost my mind. Do you want me to talk to him somewhere else? I’d understand if having him in the house makes you uncomfortable.”

“It is fine, Tasha.”

“I’ll send Kori in to finish this.”

“I _can_ braid my own hair, you know.”

Nat snorted. “Leifr has better dexterity than you right now.”

She left him grumbling to himself and headed for the parlour. Clint was in uniform but he didn’t have his bow, and he looked very unhappy as he paced by the window. Natasha closed the door loud enough to make herself known and the archer glanced up, attempting a smile.

“Hey Tash.”

“Hi there. Nice of you to drop by. You wanna sit?”

He nodded, dropping onto the couch as she sat opposite, arranging her skirts.

“God, I’m still not used to seeing you in that get-up.”

“I’ve got a seamstress at the palace running up some trousers for me but they won’t be ready til the end of the week.”

“You know, they’ve got pants on Earth. Lots of ‘em, in fact.”

The Russian folded her arms. “Spit it out, Barton.”

He frowned, leaning forwards. “Fine. What the hell are you doin’ here, Nat? You don’t have to play house with Mr Psycho anymore. You can leave with us tomorrow and forget about this place.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I won’t leave my children.”

“So bring them too.”

 

She shook her head. “Odin won’t go for that. And don’t bother telling me he can’t stop us, because you know he can.”

“Thor would help, if you asked him. He wouldn’t let Odin keep you here like a prisoner.” The brunette pouted.

“The only way Thor can convince Odin to let me take them is by agreeing to stay and take the throne. He won’t do that, and I don’t wanna ask him to.”

“So we’ll get Fury to complain. They can’t mistreat a citizen of Earth without violating their own damn rules.”

Nat sighed. “Clint, you know me. If I didn’t want to be here, I’d find a way home. When I first got married all I did was try to escape. You might have noticed things have changed since then. I made a choice to have kids with Loki, and so I’m gonna stay with them no matter what.”

He glared at her. “Yeah, about that. I’ve got some questions.”

“I probably owe you some answers.”

“I’ll say. How the fuck could you keep this shit from me? All those times we wrote each other and you never mentioned you had a kid, let alone two! Or that your husband was a crazy asshole who brainwashed me and tried to blow up the planet. We’re supposed to be pals, Romanov – I don’t keep a damn thing from you and we both know it.”

Natasha faced him steadily; Clint had a right to be angry, and she wasn’t going to disrespect him by avoiding his gaze. “I knew if I told you the truth you’d go straight to Thor, and as much as I knew Loki was not the rightful king I didn’t want my kids growing up without a father.”

“Why would you even want kids with that monster anyway? Why didn’t you escape?”

She bit her lip, thinking before she responded. “When I first got here, I only wanted to get away. But that was almost impossible. There are very few ways in and out of Asgard to begin with, and as Odin Loki had complete power to control and monitor all of them. I couldn’t use anything in the vault, I couldn’t get a message out and I couldn’t get anyone to help me. So I decided to wait until he got comfortable, and take advantage of any opportunity to slip out when it appeared.”

Clint said nothing, watching her intently.

“A couple of months passed and we got friendly. Not because I was afraid of him, before you start with the Stockholm Syndrome accusation again. We were just spending lots of time together, enough for me to really get to know him. I was still super pissed off about being lured into marriage under false pretences, trust me, but Loki wasn’t the same guy who invaded Earth. He was quieter, less irrational, lonely and willing to admit it. He was a good king as far as I could tell, and even though he wasn’t always nice that was partly my fault. I guess…I finally saw him the way Thor did, like a guy who’d made some mistakes but wasn’t necessarily evil.”

“He threw Stark out a fuckin’ window, Tash.”

“Like you’ve never done the same thing? Like I haven’t done worse about a hundred times? Are we evil?”

“We never enjoyed doin’ it.”

“I don’t think Loki did either.”

 

Clint glowered for a second before forcibly uncrossing his arms. “Okay, so you got chummy and decided what, he was Father of the Year material?”

“It was complicated.”

He gave her a withering look. “You’re kidding.”

“Are you listening or not?” she arched a brow, “After about six months we were ‘chummy’, if you wanna call it that. People were talking in the court about why I wasn’t pregnant yet, and saying Loki was neglecting his duties to the realm.”

“So? No skin off your nose.”

“The queen kinda has to care about public opinion, Barton, and even if I didn’t want to be I was Loki’s queen – and I was going to stay that way for the foreseeable future. I couldn’t escape, and Loki wasn’t going to send me back no matter what I did. So yeah, I was concerned that gossip meant trouble.”

“You could have sat back and let them talk all they wanted – from what I’ve seen these Asgardians don’t have a revolutionary bone in their bodies, and even if they did, you wouldn’t have been in any danger. You could have let them get rid of Loki for you.”

“So I should have just let Asgard go to shit for my own selfish reasons? Cos overthrowing kings always went so well in our history.”

“Thor would have come back and sorted it out.”

“Maybe. But the Aesir value a lot of traits we call bullying, and I wasn’t going to let the nobles seize power so they could start stomping all over the lower classes.”

“So you had sex with Loki to save Asgard,” Clint chuckled bitterly, “How fucking romantic.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “I didn’t exactly start fucking his brains out on a regular basis, Clint. I asked him to find a spell so we’d only have to do it once, and it worked. I got pregnant with Sigrid right away.”

“Let me guess – she didn’t count cos she wasn’t a son?”

“Actually Loki was fine to raise her as the heir and make the Aesir deal with it. Leifr just, uh, happened one night when we were wasted.”

“That’s not like you. You’re the most careful person I know.”

“I wasn’t thinking straight, okay? You try drinking a whole bottle of mead and tell me how good your decision-making skills are.”

“So that’s it? You only slept with him twice and he knocked you up both times?”

“Actually it was three – we had sex the night Odin came back.”

“Jesus!”

“We thought he was going to die, and I wanted to distract him.”

“Please tell me you at least used protection that time.”

“They don’t exactly have standard human-friendly birth control.”

“So?” he glanced at her stomach.

Nat grimaced. “Yeah. I’m pregnant.”

 

The agent stared at her for a second and then suddenly hunched over, snickering hysterically and hugging himself. Natasha giggled, quietly at first, and then she lost it too. The pair laughed until her chest felt tight and she was fighting to breath, starting up again every time they got close to stopping. Finally Clint gave a hoot and sat up, snorting softly as he shook his head.

“Oh my god, you poor bastard,” he wiped his eyes, “I wouldn’t be you for a million bucks, Nat.”

“It’s not so bad. I could look like you.”

He threw a pillow at her and she ducked, the cushion flying into the wall.

“Nice shot.” The redhead stuck her tongue out.

“I thought I’d go easy on ya, since you’ve been out of the field so long.”

“I can still kick your ass, pregnant and all.”

“Don’t test me, Tash. I’m not afraid to hit a girl.”

She smiled at the warmth in his tone. “Seriously though, you don’t hate me?”

Clint exhaled loudly. “Nah. You’re still Tash. You don’t fall apart under pressure, and you always think before you act, and you don’t do anything you don’t want to. So if you say you thought having kids with Loki was the right choice, I believe you. If you say he’s not such a bad guy, I’m not gonna forgive him for what he’s done, but I’ll at least feel better about you staying with him.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

She rested her hands on her knees. “Do you want to meet the kids?”

“Hell yeah I do. I’ve got five years of being the universe’s best uncle to catch up on.”

“Don’t let Thor hear you say that.”

Clint scoffed. “Tell him to bring it – I can out-fun him any day.”

*****

Loki woke to the smell of sizzling meat, blinking against the sunlight. He pointed at the window and nothing happened. The god growled and sat up, crossing to open the curtains himself. At least he didn’t feel tired and sore today; just sad at the emptiness in his veins. Loki was used to feeling his power wrapped around him like a cloak, a surge of electricity that made him a match for any brute with a sword, an energy that made him feel invincible – and for all purposes, it had: he’d survived death twice now. He wouldn’t be so lucky again.

He dressed himself in a plain tunic and pants, not bothering to brush his hair before tying it back off his face. The trickster followed his nose to the kitchen. Natasha sat at the table in a simple dark blue gown with the sleeves tied up, her hair bundled out of the way in a net. She was bouncing Leifr gently in her lap as she fed him spoonfuls of porridge, half the sticky mixture ending up on the tablecloth instead.

“Morning.” She smiled.

“Good morrow.” Loki’s mouth twitched.

“May I bring you something to eat, my lord?” Aslaug pulled out a chair for him.

“I’m not overly hungry.”

“He’ll have the same as me,” Nat said firmly, “You’re still recuperating.”

“I feel much better today, actually.”

She looked sceptical. “Really? That’s great. Maybe you could come to the market with me then – the fresh air would be good for you.”

Loki’s guts twisted, the blood draining from his face. “I do not think I am quite well enough for that.”

“Hmm.” She murmured with a suspicious frown.

“It is as you say – I am still recovering from Odin’s punishment. I should not like to find myself woozy in the middle of the city.”

“Alright. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Maybe.”

Aslaug put a bulging in plate in front of him and Loki picked at it, conscious of Natasha’s disapproving stare. Finally she finished feeding Leifr and stood, patting his back.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“Do not rush,” Loki smiled tightly, “I hear fresh air is good for you.”

She smirked, squeezing his shoulder as she passed. Loki waited until she’d gone and stood, pushing his breakfast away.

“My lord?” Aslaug frowned.

“My apologies, but unfortunately I’ve no stomach today. I think I shall lie down for a time.”

“Of course.”

 

He couldn’t nap; it was too hard to turn off his brain, and he wasn’t really tired anyway. Instead Loki lay in bed staring at his blank walls and going over every mistake he’d ever made, from letting the Jotunn into the weapons vault during Thor’s coronation to setting Kurse on the path to kill Frigga, from making a deal with Thanos to betraying Thor and Odin after Svartalfheim. He had no one to blame for the loss of his magic but himself, and he was wise enough to realise it after years of mistakenly thinking he was smarter than everyone else when he was really only young and arrogant. He knew now that in his youth he’d been as bad as Thor: the same selfishness and pride he’d hated in the thunder god had been present in him, under his envy and rage.

He’d wept after the guards told him Frigga was dead, thanks in part to him; now he’d lost the gift she’d worked so hard to teach him and he had no tears left. He’d disappointed her in every possible way, and he was almost glad she wasn’t around to see it. Worse, Loki didn’t want to repeat his mistake by letting down Natasha and the children, but he couldn’t see a way around it – without his magic he was worthless to them, a weakling who couldn’t defend them from the angry Aesir he’d wronged. He might as well hand himself over to be stoned in the public square, and spare them his disgrace.

There was a knock on his door and he drew his covers tighter around him. “Who is it?”

“Geirr, my lord.”

Loki sat up. “Is something wrong with the children?”

The Asgardian cleared his throat, still talking through the door. “No, my lord. But Sigrid and I are finished for the morning and she wants to practice her _seiðr_. I told her I would ask you.”

Loki scowled. He couldn’t teach her anymore, but he didn’t like the idea of Odin doing it either – if Odin even would. He’d never offered to teach Thor or Loki. Maybe they should find a Vanir to tutor her, if they could find one willing to join such a scandalous household.

In the end he couldn’t say no to his daughter. She shouldn’t miss out because of his idiocy.

“Tell her I will be there in a moment.”

He heard Geirr’s footsteps as he retreated, and hauled himself out of bed. Loki gave himself a practice smile in the mirror that wasn’t terribly convincing, and grimaced. He’d have to do better than that. He _used_ to be good at pretending.

There were lots of things he used to be good at.

 

Nat didn’t get back from the market until after lunch, one of her guards helping carry in the day’s shopping. She glanced around the kitchen as Aslaug came to unpack the baskets.

“Where is Lord Loki?”

“His chambers, my lady.”

“How long has he been there?”

“Most of the day, mistress.”

The redhead pursed her lips unhappily. She left the servant to take care of the groceries, returning to her own room to change into a plain black tunic and a pair of trousers she’d bought after getting tired of waiting for her palace-tailored ones to arrive. She strapped her knives over the top and bound her hair back tight enough that it wouldn’t escape, going to shove Loki’s door open without knocking. The god looked up from where he sat in the open window, frowning in a sad, confused way that pissed her off.

“You look different.”

“Yeah, I’ve decided to go for more of a shield-maiden thing.”

“It suits you.”

“How was your morning?”

“I supervised Sigrid through some basic elemental spells. She is a quick learner.”

“Well she’s got us for parents.”

His frown deepened. “Do you have need of me?”

“Yeah. Come spar with me.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ve never gone one-on-one with you, and I need someone to practice with while I still can – if I slack off until after the baby’s born, I’ll get rusty.”

“I don’t want to hurt the child.”

“One, this baby is half-Jotunn and half-golden apple enhanced human, so I think it will be fine. Two, you’re underestimating how badly I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Loki sighed. “I am sorry. I do not feel much in the mood for sport.”

“I’m not really asking. I’m a tyrannical pregnant woman, remember? Get changed and meet me in the courtyard.”

“Natalia-”

“Five minutes.” She said curtly, marching off with an internal huff. If he didn’t show up, she’d just have to drag him outside and beat some spirit back into him.

 

But she wasn’t even halfway through her warm-up when Loki joined her, his hair scrunched back in a haphazard bun, awkwardly holding a knife in each hand. She shot him a sidelong look and smiled.

“Do you need to stretch?”

“No.”

“Great.”

Natasha whipped out of her lunge, drawing a blade as she stepped left and sliced at Loki’s shoulder. He skipped back, getting his daggers up a second too slow, expression dazed. Nat scowled. She had to get him out of his head.

The ex-spy darted in again with a quick right, other hand crossing her body to aim the point at his side. Loki spun out of reach, returning with a wild slash that missed her and gave her an opening to knee him in the stomach. It didn’t wind him as much as she expected but it did force him to stumble back, and she took the chance to resettle her weight, watching for her next opening.

“Come on Lokes, you’re holding out on me. It’s insulting.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You couldn’t if you tried.”

He growled, shoulders rigid. “You are the most stubborn, frustrating woman I have ever met!”

“That’s why you married me,” she smirked, “We both know it.”

“Urgh!”

“Are you going to pout all day, or are we going to fight? Because I gotta say, you’re giving Sigrid a run for her money.”

“Your attempts to abuse me are pathetic. If you think you can bait me-”

Natasha threw her weapon at him, forcing Loki to dive out of its path. She sprang forwards, already drawing a replacement, and he caught her thrust on the crossguard of his blade. Loki grit his teeth and pressed back, making her shift to keep her balance. She reached forwards with the blade turned inwards and he hooked her by the elbow, using her own momentum to slide away – but not fast enough to escape a scratch along his forearm.

“This is pointless! I am no warrior.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m nothing but an impotent mage, with no talent of the sword and no expertise except in trickery.”

“ _Bullshit_. You were raised to be prince of Asgard, and you didn’t get there without learning to fight. Now quit moaning about how it’s too hard and fucking get on with it!”

She came at him with a furious flurry and Loki moved on instinct, dodging the jabs effortlessly. He ducked under a cut intended for his jugular and locked their blades, wrenching it out of her hand with a flick of his wrist.

Natasha smiled. “That’s better.”

She drew another knife and they clashed again. Loki’s arm hit hers in a jarring block and he felt a familiar rush. It was disconcerting enough to distract him, and Nat got in a headbutt that made him stagger. His body throbbed with an intensity that couldn’t compare to the way it used to sing with power, but it felt good – it felt _right_. The battle fever made him hot and loose and focused, and for the first time in days he felt alive.

They circled, eyes searching, weapons at the ready. Loki adjusted his grip as he looked for a weakness. He could do this; he met Natasha’s gaze and knew it in his bones.

Her smile grew. “Ready?”

Loki smirked, sinking into a half-crouch. “I believe I am.”

 

Tired, sweaty and covered in scratches from knuckles to elbows, Loki went back to his room to wash before dinner. He felt well-used but not tired, muscles instead humming with energy. He scrubbed the dried blood off his skin and changed, mind lighter as he joined the others for supper. But as the sky outside darkened and the evening dragged on, the feeling started to fade. He might be able to handle Natasha in a friendly fight, yes, but he couldn’t hope to match an Aesir warrior, or a frost giant, or the Other.

Nat noticed him get quieter and quieter, keeping her tone cheerful for the children even as she watched Loki carefully. When they’d finished eating he excused himself, kissing Sigrid and Leifr as he retreated.

“Kori, would you help me get these two little troublemakers ready for bed?”

“It would be my pleasure, mistress. Come on Your Highness, let’s get your face washed.” The blonde shooed Sigrid out of the room.

Natasha changed a wriggling Leifr and tucked him into his crib, brushing out Sigrid’s braids as Kori lit the nightlights. The Russian sat on the edge of her daughter’s bed and crooned a soft lullaby, stroking Sigrid’s cheek as the girl blinked heavy lids until finally her lips fell open with a soft snuffle.

She stood, nodding to Kori as the lady-in-waiting settled into an armchair with her sewing. Natasha went to the kitchen and took a bottle of mead from the pantry, hooking a pair of glasses on her way out. Loki’s door was closed; she knocked softly, pushing it ajar. Loki was sitting on his bed, hugging his knees. The shutters were open to let in some outside light but the lamps were out, and the darkness left deep shadows over his face. He looked over his shoulder with a pitiable expression.

“Yes?”

The redhead leaned against the frame, holding up the goblets. “Come and have a drink with me.”

“I am afraid I am not good company tonight.”

“I don’t mind.”

He didn’t respond, facing the window.

“Please, Loki?”

He gave a soft bird-like sigh. “Very well.”

She stepped inside and closed the door, sitting cross-legged on the bed beside him. She held out a cup insistently until he took it, and poured for both of them.

“You wanna talk about it?” she asked, tone gentle.

“Not particularly. It is not your burden.”

She took a sip, considering before she answered. “It matters to me if you’re miserable.”

“Why?” he said, so quietly she almost missed it.

“Because we’re a team. We’re partners, and partners care about each other.”

“I’ve never had a partner before. The closest was Thor, in those few adventures where our objectives aligned, but I never trusted him.”

“Do you trust me?”

He blinked. “I do.”

 

Natasha didn’t push, drinking her mead leisurely. Loki played his tongue along the inside of his teeth, glass forgotten in his hand. He _did_ trust her: she proven herself over and over, supported him, given him children, faced Odin for him when no one else would. She wanted to help. Why couldn’t he let her? Didn’t he owe her that? But every time he reached for the words, they dug into his chest like jagged glass.

She took another sip, reminding him of his own drink, and he threw back half the mead at once in an effort to catch up. It rolled along his tongue, sweet and thick and warm as it ran down his throat. His breath felt tight for a second, and he sucked in a shuddery lungful of cold air to clear it. When he exhaled something spilled over, bubbling past his lips.

“I don’t know who I am,” Loki said, voice strained, “I am no longer a sorcerer. I am no longer a prince, or a king. I am not an Aesir but I am not a Jotunn either. I belong nowhere and to no one, and I feel if I were to die tonight no one would miss me. I feel terrified. I feel _useless_.”

There was a long pause, long enough that he started to panic. Was Natasha going to laugh at his weakness? Was she going to leave?

“Clint asked me once if I knew what it was like to be unmade,” she turned, eyes locking on his, “It was after you escaped from the helicarrier, and I’d knocked whatever the sceptre did out of his brain.”

Loki couldn’t look away, breath shallow and painful as he waited anxiously.

“I told him I did. The people who trained me in the Red Room took away everything that made me Natalia, until I was the Black Widow they wanted. After a while I couldn’t even remember how it felt to be more than just the mission. And then Fury sent Clint to kill me.”

“He couldn’t.”

“I don’t know about _couldn’t_ , but he chose not to. I didn’t understand how he could disobey orders. I didn’t understand freedom, because I’d always been taught people were slaves to something: family, money, power, addiction. But Clint didn’t want anything from me. He just wanted to help, even though I was a complete stranger – worse, an enemy target - who’d done nothing to deserve it.”

“What changed?”

“He made me trust him somehow, with his sense of humour and his straightforwardness and his interest in who I was as a person and not just an asset. I was so lost and he pieced me back together, reminded me who I was and what I wanted,” she gave a soft laugh, “You’ve probably heard this story before.”

“It’s better coming from you.”

“Loki, I can’t fix this. I haven’t known you long enough to even begin to grasp how much you’re hurting. I never met Frigga, or Laufey. I can’t tell you how to exist between two races. I only know what I’ve seen over the last couple of years,” she took a deep breath, “You’re resourceful. You’re smart, and you listen to other people when you think they have something to contribute. You’re a good father, and you’ve been a good husband. You’re a good friend when you let down your guard. You know the difference between right and wrong, and you actually care about it. You can fight, and you can tell stories better than anyone I know. You’re great in bed, at least in my opinion.”

Loki chuckled wetly.

“You’re not a coward or a bully. When you were king you treated your subjects fairly. You’re funny, and you’re scared of letting people in because you’ve been hurt so many times. These are all things that are true about you, that have nothing to do with having magic or a title or who your parents were. No one can take them away from you. It’s not much, but it’s a starting point to build yourself back up. I mean, were you really happy with who you were before?”

“No.”

“So you might as well grab this opportunity to break free of all that shit. No more expectations, no more restraints – you get to decide who Loki is, without anyone else’s input.”

She reached over and took his hand, squeezing lightly.

“And don’t you dare say you don’t have anyone. Your family might not be what you thought it was, but you still have one. You have us.”

Loki sighed, closing his eyes as a tear snaked its way down one cheek. “I do not deserve you.”

“If I thought that, I wouldn’t still be here.”

“Thank you, Natalia.”

He smiled at her and she smiled back, resting her head on his shoulder, fingers still entwined.

*****

Loki was struggling with the laces under his arm when Arnfinnr walked in. He hesitated for a moment, hands raised.

“My lord, if I may be of assistance?”

The god scowled. Once upon a time he could have done it himself in an instant, and now he was as clumsy as a child, relying on others. But he wasn’t too proud to accept the help, rather than waste another fifteen minutes trying.

“Thank you.”

The servant took over, fingers moving quickly. “Prince Thor is here.”

Loki raised a brow. “Alone?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Did he say what he wants?”

“Only to see you, my lord.”

“Fine. We shall take breakfast together outside.”

Arnfinnr finished the last of Loki’s ties and bowed, exiting. The trickster tucked a stray braid behind his ear and sighed. If Thor had come to vent his rage, the easiest way to get rid of him would be to shut up and sit through it. He glanced in the mirror to make sure he didn’t look as pathetic as he felt and left his room, heading for the small garden behind the house. It had a high hedge wall, one half given over to growing vegetables and herbs, the other home to a small dining table that was already covered with food. Thor sat with his hands clasped in his lap, looking nervous. He tried a weak smile as Loki approached.

“Brother.”

“Good morrow, Highness. I am surprised you deign to grace us with your presence.”

“I wanted to spend the day with you. I hope I am not intruding?”

Loki sneered as he took a seat. “Far be it for me to tell a prince of the realm he is not welcome.”

The thunder god frowned, half-standing. “I see you are in no mood to receive me. I shall return another day.”

The dark-haired man sighed, face softening. “Oh for Bor’s sake – sit down, Thor. My tongue is made sharp by my bitterness, but its bite is not for you. In fact, I am glad you’re here.”

“Truly?” Thor sat, brows creeping upwards.

“I wanted to thank you for your petition to the Allfather on my behalf.”

“Ah. It was nothing, brother. At first I was furious at your deception, and the cruelty of letting me mourn you a _second_ time without cause. But after my speech with Lady Natasha, I felt you deserved a chance to make amends. She spoke very highly of you.”

“She is quite mad like that.” Loki smiled.

 

There was a pause while they served themselves, Thor stacking his plate high. The blond picked up his fork and stopped, face puzzled.

“You have been married many years now.”

“I don’t know about _many_.”

“And you have children.”

Loki pursed his lips. “If you are about to ask how I won the heart of the fair Natalia my answer will only disappoint you, for I have done no such thing nor attempt to.”

“No, she explained it to me well enough. I was more curious about you, for I never took you to be the husbandly type. Do you enjoy it?”

He gave a small grin. “I do.”

“It seems to have had a great positive effect on your character.”

“It makes a man unselfish.”

Thor nodded as if he’d expected the answer. “I am hoping to take Jane Foster as my wife upon my return to Midgard.”

“Odin will love that.”

“He holds no sway over my decision. I am not his heir, and so am free to wed as I will.”

“You really aren’t going to stay? Even after everything that’s happened, after what I did?”

Thor shrugged. “I will remain for a time, to show the realm that the Allfather is in command once more and that Asgard is as strong and stable as ever. But I am not meant for a life at court, Loki. I could never serve the Aesir as they deserve.”

“Once I would have given almost anything for you to see that.”

“And now?”

“I find myself almost wishing you would stay, for I fear I am growing fond of this new Thor.”

The prince looked pleased, hiding his blush by cramming more boar into his mouth. Loki was grateful they could drop the subject. He didn’t know what was worse: admitting such sentimental garbage, or the fact it was true. His brother was very different, even to how he’d been when they fought Malekith together. Midgard had changed him for the better. If only it had done the same for Loki, maybe they wouldn’t be in this mess.

 

“How are you faring?” Thor asked gingerly.

“Oh, you know,” the Jotunn smiled, “Terrible depression and despair, self-loathing, identity crisis – the usual.”

“I am sorry to hear it.”

“It is unspeakably awful, but it is a price I willingly pay for my life.”

“I wish I could take you back to Midgard with me; I do not like the thought of leaving you alone.”

“Odin will not allow his new heirs to escape his grasp, and so I must stay. Fret not, brother. I have Natalia to buoy my spirits.”

“She is a most excellent woman.”

“Indeed. I regret involving her in my troubles but I am infinitely glad of her support.”

“They say in the court that she was a just and gracious queen, and that standing up to the Allfather in your defence showed bravery beyond what they thought Midgardians capable of.”

Loki narrowed his gaze. “What else do they say?”

“I know not what you mean, Loki.”

“I no longer have the resources I once did, brother, and I have not yet found the strength to leave my exile within these walls. What is said, in the palace and the taverns and the marketplace, about me and my family?”

“Loki, I don’t think it important what-”

“Do not waste your breath, Thor. Just tell me. I must know if I need to prepare myself for an attack.”

“No one would dare, not with the Allfather’s blessing upon your house!”

Loki gave him a patronising look. “I’m not going to place too much faith in the Allfather’s blessing.”

 “I don’t think I need to tell you what is whispered, brother. You know the Aesir well enough to guess. They are outraged by your lies and your usurpation of the sacred throne, and they do not understand why Odin spared your life, but they will not challenge his verdict. I do not believe the common folk would offer you violence, but there are young ambitious nobles who may take advantage of your, uh, vulnerability.”

“And Natasha?”

“As I said, she has won their respect – and in some cases, their sympathy for being deceived.”

“They don’t hate her for defending me?”

“They consider it her duty as your wife. If that position taints her in any way, it is mitigated by the Allfather’s recognition that she is mother to the heirs. In some ways, she may as well have been married to him, for though she no longer bears any authority she retains her status.”

“Making my children his heirs is insanity,” Loki shook his head, “Leifr will never be accepted as king.”

“He is the Allfather’s choice, and his adopted grandson. He is as much a prince of Asgard as you were when Odin and Frigga took you in.”

“Yes, and he wouldn’t let me inherit the crown either.”

 

“The Allfather has changed,” Thor said sadly, “We all have. He does not have another option.”

“I will not condemn my son to be torn down by jealous, hateful nobles who desire his place and consider themselves better qualified for the task.”

“As you tried to do with me?”

Loki pouted. “Yes.”

“It is a long time until you must worry about that, brother – long enough that people will get used to the way of things. By the time Leifr must bear the crown, he will be part of the court, and part of Asgard.”

“We can only hope.”

“I should like to meet him, if that’s alright. And Sigrid, of course.”

“I’m sure they can stand the interruption to their lessons. Finish your breakfast and I will introduce you.”

Thor immediately sped up, shovelling the rest of his food in, and Loki rolled his eyes.

“They won’t disappear if we wait five minutes. You’ll give yourself indigestion needlessly.”

“I am simply excited.”

“Be simply couth instead.”

The thunderer managed to restrain himself until Loki was finished, but as soon as the other god set down his spoon Thor was out of his seat, fidgeting and twitching his arms. Loki gave an exaggerated sigh and stood.

“This way.”

He led Thor through the house to the children’s rooms, walking in on Geirr’s morning lesson. The older Aesir looked up at them over his glasses and smiled.

“Greetings, Your Highness, my lord.”

“Papa!” Sigrid beamed, sliding off her chair to throw her arms around his leg.

“Good morrow, poppet,” he patted her head, “Are you being good for Master Geirr?”

“She is a delight, as always.”

“Excellent. This is your uncle, Prince Thor. Say hello.”

The girl fisted a hand in her dress shyly, staying very close to Loki as she looked up at the big god. “Hello, Uncle Thor.”

“Well met, little niece. It is an honour to make your acquaintance.”

“Papa said you live in Midgard.”

The blond crouched on one knee so their faces were closer. “Aye, that I do, with the fair maiden Jane Foster. I help the heroes of Earth protect their realm.”

“Are you going to stay in Asgard now?”

“For a time.”

Her eyes flicked to Loki. “Are you mad at us?”

Thor laughed. “Of course not! You are my very favourite niece.”

He winked and she giggled, missing Loki’s stricken look. Thor didn’t, eyeing his brother sympathetically.

“I shall fetch the babe,” the chaos god said abruptly, “Sigrid, why don’t you show Uncle Thor your light spell?”

He walked into the next chamber, where Kori was changing Leifr into a fresh beige tunic. She bobbed her head respectfully.

“My lord?”

“Thor is here to see the children.”

“How wonderful.” She smiled.

“Yes. Would you take Leifr in to see him?”

“Of course.”

The handmaiden carried his son into the other room and Loki clutched at the windowsill, fingertips digging into the wood. He had made some terrible mistakes in the past, and while most of them had put others in danger, the shame had always been his alone. What kind of father dragged their children down with them? How could he live with himself knowing his selfishness had cast a permanent shadow over Sigrid and Leifr, and the babe still on its way? In his own way he was as bad as Laufey, infecting his offspring with their father’s sickness. Maybe it would have been better if he’d died in the temple all those centuries ago.

“Papa?”

He glanced over his shoulder as Sigrid regarded him worriedly, her tiny brow furrowed. He might have damned her with his blood and his name, but he’d do whatever it took to make up for it.

“I’m here, darling. Let’s go sit with your uncle.”

She took his hand and led him out, leaving his melancholy behind for now.


	8. Chapter 8

Loki took another sip of his juice and decided he was a person who didn’t like gooseberry. He was doing a lot of that lately. Having taken Natasha’s advice to heart he was starting from scratch; even the most basic aspects of his personality had to be tested and rethought. So far he’d ruled out singing, beards, warm weather and hawking as not for him, and confirmed that he did in fact love books more than was probably healthy. Later he was going to experiment with hats.

It might be a slow process, but then the one thing he had was time. He still couldn’t bring himself to face the world, and with their smaller household and the servants they did have, his daily duties had drastically reduced. Loki didn’t mind too much; it gave him the freedom to think about himself. Maybe in the course of his investigation he’d find something he wanted to do with his life, like write down what he knew about magic and the spaces between the realms or work with the Asgardian schools. He still had talents, as he was discovering day by day.

Natasha walked in carrying a long thin parcel wrapped in canvas and set it on the table in front of him.

“Happy anniversary.”

“Unless I am sorely mistakenly you have confused your dates, my dear.”

“It’s a belated gift. I figure I’m about five years behind.”

He looked unconvinced but untied the string, folding the canvas back. It was a broadsword in a leather scabbard, the material stamped near the hilt with a silver snake emblem. The pommel bore a matching engraving. Loki unsheathed it with a trembling hand, admiring the glint of the steel.

“This is well-made.”

“I know it’s only for decoration, but it’s always handy to have an extra weapon close by.”

Loki frowned thoughtfully, tracing the serpent’s curve. Natasha touched his arm.

“You okay?”

“Yes, just wondering if I still like snakes. They are slippery, silent, hidden…traits I once valued highly, and for which I was mocked. The Aesir have no respect for those who move in shadow.”

“Does that upset you?”

Loki grinned ever so slightly. “I think they are fools, as I have in the past. Charging at your enemies only gives them an opportunity to kill you, but stealth and cunning keep your head on your shoulders while they lose theirs.”

“It’s my preferred tactic.”

He nodded finitely. “I like snakes, even if others do not – people always hate what they fear, but it does not make those things evil.”

Natasha smiled proudly. “Maybe we can get you a pet one.”

“Perhaps.”

“Wanna help me hang it?”

He stood, holding it while she dragged a stool over and climbed up, keeping the heavy metal straight so she could hook it on an empty nail. Nat adjusted both swords until they made a perfect cross, stepping down to inspect it.

“It looks good to me.”

“Indeed.” Loki smiled, letting out a chuckle.

“What?” the redhead nudged him.

“I am thinking there is a benefit to all this I had not considered. I do not have to hide anymore. I can be myself: I can wear my colours and use my true name and smile with my own face. I can have my device on what is mine,” he nodded to the sword, “And I do not have to pretend to approve of Odin or his policies.”

“Well you might wanna keep that one up in public at least, but yeah. I feel the same way – it’s the first time in my life I haven’t had to keep a secret.”

“It’s strange.”

“But good?”

Loki nodded. “I think so.”

 

Natasha found herself missing the steady to-do list she’d had as queen, and although she knew Loki was similarly at a loss at least he had his self-reflection to keep him busy. Geirr gave Sigrid’s lessons; Kori looked after both children the majority of the time. Aslaug and Arnfinnr took care of the house. It didn’t leave much for Nat, though she tried to be as hands-on as she could without interfering. Afraid of returning to the dull old days of embroidery and flower arranging, she made sure to go to the market first thing every day so she could interact and observe someone she wasn’t related to and stop her mind turning to mush. In the afternoons she sparred with Loki, another good mental workout as well as a physical one.

But before long she was too big and too tired to keep up the exercise, or to wander around the city on swollen feet since she couldn’t ride. Loki happily stepped up to take over her chores, but he still refused to leave the house.

“I am not ready,” he said, “I have not finished deciding who I am, and until I do I fear any unpleasant interactions with the Aesir will only reinforce my feelings of self-loathing and nihilism.”

“You can’t let them control you like that. Their opinion doesn’t matter.”

The god shrugged. “Maybe it makes me a coward, but I prefer to wait.”

It worried her, especially the more time dragged on. But at least Loki was learning to cope without his magic to help, and Thor came to visit every few days to provide a break from his brother’s self-imposed exile. He wasn’t going to be in Asgard forever though, and what would they do once he was gone? Natasha couldn’t force Loki to go out if he didn’t want to. She couldn’t make friends for him. She wasn’t a psych, but she knew how to handle recently turned agents, and she supposed this wasn’t so different. She had to find a way to make Loki reconnect before he dug himself any deeper into his shell - she just wasn’t sure how to do it.

*****

Natasha ran her hands over her bodice. “How do I look?”

“I do not think you are the one who needs to be concerned with appearances.”

“Thanks a lot.”

Loki tilted his head with a smirk. “You are ravishing, as always.”

“I feel enormous.”

He quirked a brow. “You are with child. I think that’s expected.”

The redhead turned to consult the mirror again, pressing her skirt closer to her stomach. The green silk was tight across her bust and dropped away from her waist, hanging off her like a tent. She was only four months along but with the baby’s accelerated growth she had a substantial bump. Kori had done her hair in a much more elaborate style than her everyday bun, the plaits coiling around each other and pulling back into a loose cascade of curls. She didn’t look bad, but on a night where they’d be the focus of everyone’s attention she couldn’t stand the thought of putting on a poor show.

She glanced at Loki, noting the way he chewed at his thumb with his other arm hugged tight around his chest. “Are _you_ okay?”

“Hmm? Yes, yes, I shall be fine.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He made a concentrated effort to relax, smiling wryly. “I think I can stomach one evening of company under the Allfather’s watchful eye.”

“It’ll be fun, right? We’ll eat, we’ll sing, we’ll wish Thor a fond farewell and come home.”

“I don’t like singing.” He pouted.

“I doubt anyone’s gonna judge you for that.”

“Oh no, I have much more appalling traits.”

She sighed and took his hand. “We can do this. We _have_ _to_ – Sigrid and Leifr are Odin’s grandkids now, and one day he’ll be king. We’re going to have to spend a lot of time with the court.”

He waved her off, frowning. “I know, I know. I shall soldier through it.”

“Alright. Go round up the children and meet me outside.”

He left to get the others and Natasha made her snail-like way to the courtyard, one hand pressed to the small of her back with a wince. This baby seemed heavier than the others, and she had an uncomfortable growing dread the closer she got to full term.

Their household guard was waiting by the gate in neat rows, along with the additional men Odin had sent down to fetch them. It was a lot of warriors; Natasha couldn’t help feeling it gave their party a very ominous air. Maybe it was better that way, to leave no doubt in anyone’s mind that Loki and his family were not to be fucked with. More importantly they’d brought a carriage for her and the little ones, and she almost sighed with relief as she finally reached it.

“May I assist you, my lady?” the captain offered a hand.

“Oh yeah,” Natasha smirked, “I definitely need assistance. You might wanna grab a couple of friends to help.”

 

The adults rode to the palace in silence as Sigrid chattered away, Loki’s whole body taut with tension. There were plenty of people moving around in the city, the lower classes holding their own celebrations on Thor’s behalf, and they stopped to watch as the carriage passed. Most were too surprised to say anything but a brave few jeered or spat, and with each barb the trickster sank lower in his seat.

They stopped outside the doors and footmen came forward to help them down. Kori tugged at Sigrid’s skirts until they hung properly, firmly taking the girl’s hand to stop her wandering off. Loki offered Natasha his arm and she took it with a huff.

“Don’t complain about me taking forever to get anywhere.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

A steward led them inside, his back very stiff under his tunic. There were other nobles headed towards the banquet hall but he took them down a different corridor.

“Where are we going?” Loki frowned.

“His Majesty has declared that you will share his table. You are to enter with him and the prince.”

Natasha and Loki exchanged a look, the redhead’s brows raised speculatively. She leaned in to whisper.

“I hope you’ve been practicing your polite face.”

“It is a masterpiece.” He smirked.

The steward opened a door and waved them into the antechamber. Thor sat by the fire, foot tapping restlessly, but he broke into a smile when he saw them.

“Brother!” he bounded up to slap Loki’s shoulder affectionately, “And Lady Natasha, and of course my favourite niece.”

“You’re going to have to stop saying that if this baby’s a girl.” Nat gestured at her stomach.

“They shall both be my favourite.” He beamed, leaning down to tickle Sigrid under the chin, “But where is my mighty nephew?”

“At home in bed. He’s not even one, Thor.” The Jotunn rolled his eyes.

“Ah, he will be fully grown before you know it. Steward, is there any sign of the Allfather?”

“Not yet, highness.”

“We await his pleasure then.” The blond waved a hand dismissively.

“It was nice of him to place us at the high table.” Natasha said carefully.

“He would not hear if you being anywhere else! You are family, after all.”

Loki grimaced. “So he keeps saying.”

“You doubt Father’s intentions?” Thor frowned.

“I think my mistrust is fair, don’t you?”

“He is much changed, Loki. I shall never admit it to him, but I think his time on Midgard served well to clear his head.”

“It seems to be a family trait,” the lie god snickered, “Maybe we should make it a rite of passage.”

Thor beamed. “Your children are always welcome in my home.”

“You’ll have to hurry up and give them some cousins to play with.” Loki leered.

The prince turned as red as his cape, and Nat bit back a smile.

It was another ten minutes before Odin arrived, his gold robes giving Loki some uncomfortable flashbacks. The king looked them over and nodded once in what the trickster assumed was approval, before leaning down to examine Sigrid.

“Are you well, my dear?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” She said shyly, clinging to Kori.

“That’s a very pretty dress.”

He gave her a grizzled smile, and the princess returned it warmly. Loki felt like he’d been slapped across the jaw with the flat of someone’s sword – Odin was never _nice_. He looked over Nat’s head at his brother and found Thor looking equally stunned.

“Come, we must not keep our guests waiting.”

 

The group walked into the feast to the low rumble of horns, the nobles standing as the buzz of conversation died away. Odin stopped in the middle of the dais and raised a hand, the other wrapped firmly around his spear.

“Friends, warriors and loyal Aesir, it is a pleasure to have you with us tonight to wish Prince Thor safe passage on his journey back to Midgard.”

There was a soft cheer and the blond smiled sheepishly, giving a wave.

“May your hearts be light and your stomachs full, and let us all rejoice in Asgard’s good fortune to have such an admirable son ready to fulfil our duty to the Midgardians by the strength of his hammer.”

“To Prince Thor!” Volstagg held up his tankard.

“To Prince Thor!” the crowd toasted.

“And,” Odin held up a hand for silence, “To the newest members of my house, who in time will dedicate themselves to the glory of the realm for our continued safety and prosperity. To Princess Sigrid, and Prince Leifr!”

Loki felt like his throat had seized shut, teeth clamped together as he held his breath. There was a pause, just the tiniest of hesitations where for an instant the Aesir looked at their neighbours uncertainly.

“To the prince and princess!”

It was a little slow and a lot less enthusiastic than Thor’s but it was sincere enough, and Loki let himself relax. It wasn’t as if the court didn’t know Sigrid; they’d been around since before she was conceived, and they’d celebrated her name day every year with faithful, untiring vigour. It might take time to adjust to the new state of affairs but they knew her character, and with the Allfather’s favour she’d quickly regain her place in their hearts.

Odin moved to his seat at the table, Thor taking the one to his right. Loki was happy to hang back and let Sigrid sit next to the king, but the old god raised his brows with an expectant look and jerked his head at the empty chair.

“Loki?”

“As you command, Father.” He choked out, the word strange in his mouth after so long.

“I do not command anything of you,” he scowled, “I simply wish to talk.”

The trickster acquiesced with a nod and sat, fighting to keep his hands still on the table. Natasha sat on his left, with Sigrid next to her and then Kori. He could feel a thousand eyes watching him, the silent tension filling the room. Servants came forward to fill their glasses and Loki clutched his eagerly, draining half immediately with a decently-sized gulp.

 

They started eating, the music quiet enough for conversation, the court settling back into their revelry. Odin turned to Thor.

“Are your preparations complete?”

“Yes Father. I leave at dawn.”

“If you can drag yourself out of bed,” the king smirked, “I think your friends shall want to keep you up well past the midnight hour.”

“I have made the Bifrost journey in worse condition.” The thunder god smiled.

“We shall sorely miss your good humour around here, won’t we?” Odin glanced at Loki.

“Speak for yourself, Allfather. I shall be glad of some peace.”

The king laughed, and Loki jumped in his seat. They hadn’t got along this well when he was a youth, let alone after all the attempted regicide and dethroning. He didn’t like it – it felt like an act, or a ploy. Odin couldn’t have changed so much since the day he stood over the Jotunn in chains and told him his birthright was to die.

“How do you fare?”

Loki pursed his lips. “Well enough.”

“Your brother tells me you have not left your lands since my return.”

“Thor does entirely too much talking.” He glared at the unashamed prince.

“He is right to keep me informed, if you will not do it yourself.”

“Forgive me if I didn’t expect you to worry too much about how I was coping with my punishment, Majesty. Had I known I would have sent you a weekly note.”

Odin frowned. “Your tongue is as sharp as ever.”

“Apparently that can’t be taken from me.”

“You consented to my judgement, Loki.”

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He hadn’t come here to argue. “You’re right. I apologise if I spoke out of turn – the penalty was merciful and well-deserved, and I am grateful to you for all you have done.”

“I know you will not believe it but it pains me to see you unhappy. I have been your father a very long time, and though we have had our grievances in recent years I always considered you a credit to your mother’s influence and my teachings. I understand how grave a loss you accepted in relinquishing your magic, particularly since my own time powerless in exile.”

The mischief god gaped, mouth opening and closing impotently. “I…I am unsure what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything,” Nat nudged him, “It’s your mouth that always gets you into trouble.”

Odin chortled as the trickster blushed, looking past him to smile at Natasha.

 

“It looks as though the babe will come soon.”

“Another two months, if it’s like the others.”

“The healers have no concerns?”

“None, Your Grace.”

He gave a satisfied nod. “When the time approaches, we will prepare rooms for you here so that you may be close to our physicians.”

Nat frowned. “That’s thoughtful of you, but I was going to give birth at home.”

“Nonsense! It makes much more sense for you to stay here. You are carrying a future member of the royal house.”

“He – or she – is also a member of this family,” she indicated Loki and Sigrid, “And I’d like them with me.”

Odin scoffed. “What does Loki know of midwifery? He need not waste his time when there are those better trained to assist.”

“Actually, Father, I delivered both Sigrid and Leifr by myself.”

His brows shot up. “What business was it of yours, when every healer in the city was at your disposal?”

“There were…complications. I could not be sure the babes would not expose my deception.”

“Ah,” the king stuck his lip out, “And did you enjoy the responsibility?”

Loki’s eyes darted to Natasha. “There was a certain element of terror.”

“Precisely – I say leave it to the experts.”

Nat glared at the lie god unhappily and he cleared his throat. “It is true that I no longer have my magic in case something goes wrong. My lady wife should have someone better suited to the task. But if she wishes to give birth at home rather than the palace, I will not ask her to do otherwise. Perhaps your healers could dwell with us instead, since it shall only be for a short time?”

“I’d be a lot more comfortable if I don’t have to move, Your Grace.”

The king sighed. “It is not proper. This child is an important part of our future. It should be born here, as Thor was, as its siblings were.”

“I wouldn’t feel right staying here without my lord husband, and his place is at the estate to watch over the children while my usefulness is limited.”

“Fine,” Odin said, “Then you’ll all come and stay for the duration.”

“Father-”

“No, a few days in the palace won’t kill you, and I’ll be glad of the chance to spend time with Sigrid and her brother. It’s settled.”

Loki shot Nat a look that said not to argue and forced out a smile. “A prudent compromise as always, Allfather.”

 

After another three courses, Odin wiped his mouth on his napkin and pointed it at the nearest table.

“I imagine your shield-companions are anxious to make merry with you, Thor.”

“There is time enough, if you prefer I stay?”

“No, no. We have said all that needs saying. Go, with my blessing.”

The blond bowed his head and stood, joining the Warriors Three and Sif in a storm of backslapping laughter.

“Sigrid, come and tell me about your studies.”

The girl glanced at her mother, who gave an encouraging smile. She hopped out of her chair and walked over to the king, who pulled her into his lap with a grin that made Loki cough into his wine.

“Do not linger on my account,” Odin said, “Sigrid shall keep me fine company while you are sociable.”

“We are content, Father.” The Jotunn protested.

“I doubt this old man is fitting company for your brother’s feast. Go enjoy yourselves.”

Nat laid a hand on his. “Sounds fun. Come on, honey.”

She tugged him reluctantly to his feet, the god bowing to the Allfather before offering his arm and leading her around the table.

“Oh joy. I’m sure everyone will just be thrilled to see us.”

“We could sit with Thor.”

“And spoil his party with my unwelcome presence? No, my brother has never been good at noticing when his friends are only tolerating me to humour him. I shouldn’t like to cast a cloud over the evening.”

“Who do you want to talk to then?”

“No one.”

“Lokiii,” she sighed, “You can’t be a hermit your whole life.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll drive me insane.”

“There’s no reason _you_ can’t make friends.”

“You’re right – I know exactly where to start.”

 

She guided him through the long tables, patiently ignoring the way people stopped talking to look as they passed. She stopped behind a group of young women and warriors, gently placing a hand on Magnhild’s shoulder.

“Hi there.”

“Lady Natasha!” the blonde beamed, “I am delighted to see you.”

Guðríðr was on her other side, and she jumped up to curtsey. “My lady. I hope you are well?”

Nat stroked a hand over her bump. “As well as I can be. I was wondering if we could join you?”

“Of course. We’ll make room.” Guðríðr shoved the noble on her left until he moved down the bench.

With a lot of shuffling and grunts they opened up two places for Loki and Nat, the god helping her climb over the bench and get comfortable before he squeezed in next to her. The group was one he knew well, both from his days in Thor’s band and his time as king, and they weren’t his biggest fans. He was getting the stink-eye from all directions, though Magnhild smiled at him kindly.

“What have you been up to?” Natasha asked.

“One of my older sisters is getting married, so our house is preoccupied with making the arrangements.”

“Our congratulations to her,” the redhead responded, “Is she excited?”

“I think she will be once the pressure eases.”

“Was it arranged by your parents?”

“Centuries ago,” Magnhild laughed, “But we were all raised together and I’m certain they’re quite in love with each other, if they’d stop being shy about it.”

“Not all betrothals end so well.” A square-jawed warrior across the table said, eyes flicking from Loki to Nat.

“I think if you have the right attitude, you can make it work.” Natasha shot back coolly.

“Some things can’t change.”

Loki raised his brows. “And some surprise you.”

The warrior dropped his gaze, avoiding Loki’s stare. Nat gave him a supportive look and nodded infinitesimally towards Guðríðr. The liesmith turned to the other noblewoman.

“So my lady,” he smiled charmingly, “Tell me what you have been doing with yourself of late.”

 

The feast wasn’t fun, as such. Loki and Nat spent a while talking to Magnhild and Guðríðr, their friends barely saying two words, before moving on to other groups. Lord Finnr avoided them with panicked embarrassment; some Aesir fell silent as soon as they sat down, while some tried to have stilted conversations that made the awkwardness worse.

It wasn’t terrible either. A few of the braver or more foolish Asgardians made their contempt obvious on their face, but no one yelled or insulted them or made openly snarky remarks. Natasha kept the talk flowing with a cool, steady hand until they ended up sitting with Thor and his friends. The warriors were stiff as Loki sat down, Sif’s glare boring a hole through his face. But Thor greeted him warmly, and after a few more glasses of mead the others loosened up, letting their prince’s good mood relax them. Loki even found himself laughed as they shared old stories about their adventures, ones Natasha hadn’t heard before.

As predicted, the quartet wanted to take Thor out to the more disreputable city venues and keep partying. The prince turned to Loki.

“Do you care to join us, brother?”

“I am a married man, Thor, with duties to my wife and children. I must see them safely home.”

“You should go,” Natasha said, “I have Kori to help me with Sigrid.”

“Come, Loki. It has been so long since we have been carefree and wild together. We must remember we are still young!”

“I don’t feel very young.”

“All the more reason. It may be the last time I see you for many years. Please?”

The younger god sighed. “Very well. A few ales.”

Fandral chuckled darkly. “We shall see. The night is not even begun.”

 

Loki drunkenly staggered home past dark houses and empty streets, his guard following unobtrusively. The stars winked in the endless black realm above him and the dawn slowly rose behind, its pearly tendrils creeping over the edges of the buildings with a beauty he’d thought lost to him. Loki was used to walking the paths between worlds, to being surrounded by amazing and awe-inspiring and terrible things, and he’d started to worry that his life would be a boring and dreary thing without his magic. There was still splendour though, and wonder, and delight in the eyes of his children as they stared up at him like a true divinity. There was comfort in the laughs of old friends, even if they couldn’t quite forget the wounds he’d given them. There was comfort in Natasha, helping and pushing and not letting him collapse in on himself, in the smiles she gave him that he knew were for him alone.

His footsteps echoed off the stone of the road, and the god felt a little better.

*****

With a week to go, Natasha woke up to find the house in chaos.

“What is going on?” she frowned as Aslaug helped her dress, servants streaming past in the hall.

“The Allfather has sent them to help move you, my lord and their Highnesses to the palace before the birth, mistress.”

“Nice of him to let us know,” she scowled, “Is Loki up?”

“He is directing Arnfinnr to pack the children’s things.”

“Great. I can’t think of anything I wanna do less.”

The servant smiled timidly. “At least there are plenty of spare hands, my lady.”

“Yeah. Let’s get some of those eager beavers in here then. I’m gonna lie on the couch for awhile.”

She schlepped her way to the parlour, sinking onto the couch with a groan. A moment later Loki appeared with her breakfast, setting them within reach. He kissed her forehead, smiling brightly.

“Good morrow. Aren’t we privileged to have the Allfather’s esteem?”

“It’s awesome. Please tell me I don’t have to supervise any of this madness?”

“I have it well in hand. You rest.”

“I can handle that.”

By the time she’d finished eating and snuck in a ten minute nap, everything was bundled up in the back of a wagon and the children were dressed and waiting. Loki came to help her into the carriage, tucking the furs tight around her.

“I’m fine, Lokes. It’s not that cold.”

“Shut up and let me fuss.”

She smirked, keeping quiet as he sat beside her. The gates opened and their driver moved out, even more guards than usual surrounding the convoy.

But it didn’t look like they needed the protection. Every Aesir on the road stopped to wave and smile, calling out excitedly. Nat frowned at Loki, but he looked just as confused.

“Why the sudden cheer squad?”

“I have no idea.”

Kori laughed, bouncing Leifr in her lap. “They are eager to meet the Allfather’s new grandbabe, my lord. They have spoken about little else since Prince Thor’s departure.”

“Why would they care?” Loki asked, “They all hate me.”

“But Odin does not. Your child will be part of his house, and so they follow his example by welcoming it. Besides,” the handmaiden smiled, “The Aesir love an excuse to celebrate.”

The two parents exchanged a thoughtful look, and the next time someone hailed them Natasha waved back.

 

When they reached the palace a steward led them to Odin’s study, the king looking up with a welcoming smile as they entered.

“Ah, at last. I trust the journey was tolerable?”

“It was unexpectedly pleasing.” Loki said.

The Allfather beckoned to Sigrid. “Give your grandsire a hug.”

She skipped around the desk to clamber into his lap, giggling as his beard tickled her neck.

“There is a suite of chambers appointed to you close to the healers’ quarters. Master Geirr and your governess will have to share with the young ones but I’m sure they can survive for a few days.”

“They’ll be fine, thank you.” Nat replied.

Odin’s brow furrowed. “You shouldn’t be on your feet. I’ll have them show you to your rooms at once.”

“Come along Sigrid – your grandsire has a realm to run.” Loki held his hand out.

The steward took them back down the hall and up the stairs, turning towards the galleries overlooking the garden.

“This feels so weird,” Natasha whispered, “Like we’re staying in a crazy hotel. But we used to live here.”

Loki stifled a laugh. “I know what you mean. Consider how much stranger it is for me – I grew up within these walls.”

He paused as they passed an arched doorway, eyeing the passage uncertainly for long enough that the rest of the group stopped.

“Lokes?”

“I want to show you something. Steward, escort Lady Kori and Her Highness on to our rooms.”

The man bowed and turned down the corridor. Loki handed Sigrid over to Kori and took Nat’s hand, tugging her in the other direction.

“Where are we going?”

“You must be patient, my little spider.”

“I hate that.”

He chuckled. “I am well aware. You may relax; it will not be a long wait.”

He turned a few corners and then stopped in front of a tall pair of silver doors with a dark wood frame. The metal was embellished with raised images of people doing battle across a huge plain, mages and warriors exchanging blows.

“These are the rooms I grew up in.” he stroked the panel hesitantly.

She inhaled sharply, eyes flicking to his face. “Really? I’ve never seen them.”

“It made no sense to show you before. It would not have fit with my disguise as Odin Allfather.”

“I guess not.”

He pushed the handle and one leaf swung open with a creak. Loki led her into a dark room, cursing internally. If he still had his magic he could have lit the lamps or opened the shutters in an instant. Instead he left Natasha by the door and stumbled from window to window, letting the daylight in.

“It looks like it haven’t been touched.” She gawked, turning on the spot.

Loki examined the room. It was as he remembered it, the mahogany and bronze wall panels, the sage green drapes so dark they were almost grey. One wall was lined with bookshelves from ceiling to floor, an inviting reading area separating the library from a set of doors out onto the balcony. His dining table was raised on a platform at the far end of the room, next to the doorway that led to his bedchamber.

“It hasn’t been. After I fell from the Bifrost they thought me dead, and would not disturb it; after I was thrown in the dungeons Frigga kept it waiting for me, hoping Odin and I would reconcile. I’d expected it to be in ruins by now though – anyone with half a brain would have seized the loss of my magic as a chance to steal or sell my texts.”

“Maybe they respect Odin’s orders to treat you like family?”

“Or maybe they are still scared of me, even in my toothless state.”

“You’re not that toothless.” She grinned, and he returned it easily.

“Want to deflower me on the bed of my youth?” Loki waggled his brows.

“As appealing as a tumble on your dusty sheets sounds, I might pass. I’m blown up like a beach ball.”

“Nataliaaa,” he drifted behind her, wrapping his hands around her hips, “Where is your sense of mischief?”

Her mouth twitched. “Well, it could be fun making you rub my shoulders and dote on me. And it’s not like you can knock me up again.”

“That’s the spirit.” He laughed, breath hot on her neck.

“Seriously though, if we’re gonna keep fooling around after this baby’s born we need to have a talk about contraception.”

He swept the redhead into a bridal carry, shocking a yelp out of her. “I shall see what I can do.”

*****

“Loki. Loki. Wake up. Loki!”

“Hmm?” the god stirred, batting a hand wildly at the source of the noise.

“Ow!” Natasha growled, answering with a vicious punch to his arm, “Watch where you’re swinging, asshole. I’m glad we don’t usually share a bed.”

Properly awake, he sat up and rubbed a hand across his eyes, squinting at the lamplight. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m in labour.”

“Oh. Oh! For how long?”

“Maybe half an hour? Cramps woke me up and then my water broke all over the carpet,” she grimaced, “The maids are not going to be happy.”

“I’ll fetch the healers.” Loki threw back the covers.

“Drops first.”

He hurried to the dresser and yanked open the top drawer, taking out the numbing solution. Nat hissed through her teeth, clutching at the corner of the bedframe, and stuck out her tongue so he could administer the dose. She closed her eyes with a sigh, sinking back against the pillows.

Loki rang the bell but didn’t wait for a response, opening the trunk at the end of the bed to take out clean towels and sheets. A manservant hurried in a moment later, eyes red-rimmed and tired.

“My lord?”

“Find the chief healer with all speed and tell her Lady Natasha is about to deliver, then notify Odin of the same. And send someone with a bowl of ice.”

“Yes sir,” he fidgeted, looking a lot more energetic all of a sudden, “Right away.”

He ran off and Loki went back to making the bed comfortable, building up a nest of linen. He washed his hands in the basin and sat next to Natasha.

“Are the drops helping?”

She nodded, though her cheeks were flushed and her hair was starting to stick to her neck.

“I’ll open the window. Do you want to change your nightgown?”

“No point - this one’s already ruined.”

“Very well.” The trickster got up to let in a breeze.

When the palace healer arrived, it was to find the pair curled up together in the middle of the bed, Loki’s arms tight around Nat’s middle as he murmured a story in her ear. She cast an eye over the preparations and nodded.

“Well done, my lord.”

Natasha smiled. “He’s had practice.”

 

Kori sat on the edge of her seat, gaze flying nervously to the Allfather every few seconds. The king looked calm in his position on the couch, watching the fire blankly as if he was meditating, hands resting on his knees. There was another wave of grunting and yelling from the main bedroom and she fought down a wince, clenching her fists in her lap. There were voices, and more shouts, and then the high-pitched wail of a newborn.

Odin’s head snapped up, watching the door intently. Kori’s heart leapt with excitement. They waited another couple of minutes, and then the healer came in with a tired expression.

“Lady Natasha and the babe are both well, and ready to see you, sire.”

“My thanks.” He stood, striding past her into the bedroom.

The Russian was under the covers, her face pale and sweat-streaked but smiling. She held a small figure swaddled in a green cloth, tiny fingers scrunched near its face. Loki sat next to them with his arm around his wife, cooing softly. He looked up as the Allfather entered, and the joy in his expression didn’t falter.

“Father.”

“Loki. I do not wish to intrude, only to offer my congratulations.”

“Come, have a look at her.” The Jotunn waved him over.

“Her?” he sat on the other side of the mattress, peering at the chubby cheeks and dark hair.

“Gyða.”

Odin smiled, running the edge of his pinkie over her little hand. “She will be a great beauty, like her mother.”

“As long as she’s strong like her too, I will be proud.”

“Let’s not forget clever like you.” Nat beamed up at him.

“Oh no,” Loki shook his head, “She’ll need to be much cleverer than me.”

“She will be a jewel in Asgard’s crown,” Odin patted the blankets, “But not yet. There is plenty of time for that. For now, let her just be Gyða.”

Loki kissed Natasha’s cheek. “I intend to make sure of it.”


	9. Epilogue

They slowed to a walk in front of the palace entrance and Natasha had to fist a hand in the back of Gyða’s dress to stop her diving off the horse before they’d even stopped.

“Mama!” the girl complained.

“You can act like a lady for five minutes instead of a hooligan. You’ll break your neck jumping around like that.”

The princess huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, but when they stopped she let a footman lift her to the ground without fussing. Natasha dismounted gracefully, keeping an eye on Sigrid as she slid off her pony but there was no need to worry; she steadied herself carefully and threw her mother a proud smile. Leifr had even less trouble, rolling out of the saddle to land on his feet like an acrobat, making Natasha roll her eyes in exasperation for only the hundredth time that day.

“I blame you,” she scowled at Loki as he dismounted, “He’s your son.”

“He’s yours too, my dear. It’s his saving grace.” The god smirked.

A steward was waiting to show them in, and he bowed low as the children got closer.

“Your Highnesses, my lord, my lady – if you’d follow me?”

They swept into the palace, the three younger Asgardians talking amongst themselves with giggles and playful shoves, Loki and Natasha following.

“Merry Jul!” Gyða chirped as they passed a chambermaid.

“Merry Jul, Your Highness.” She frowned slightly, giving the princess a confused look.

“Merry Jul,” she greeted the next person, “Merry Jul, Merry Jul, Merry Jul!”

“Gyða, can we hold off until we get to the banquet hall?” Loki sighed, “You’ll exhaust your holiday spirit.”

“I have to say it to everyone, Papa.”

“Of course you do.”

“How many more days of the festival?” Nat muttered.

“Ten.”

“Urrgh.”

They entered the hall, the tables full of Aesir clanking glasses and chatting with their neighbours, but they were cut off by a blare of hunters’ trumpets.

“Their Highnesses Prince Leifr, Princess Sigrid, and Princess Gyða!”

“Merry Jul!” Gyða called out, sparking a roar of laughter as Natasha facepalmed.

“Remember that conversation you had with Mother about princesses being dignified?” Loki took her hand, steering her towards the high table.

She stuck her lip out. “I’m just being friendly.”

“And that’s great, sweetheart. We love that about you. Let’s just work on your timing, hmm?”

Loki took the seat next to the empty throne, Leifr beside him, while Nat and the girls sat on Odin’s other side. Servants poured their drinks and served the food as Sigrid look around with a frown.

“Where’s Grandfather?”

“If you’ll excuse me, Your Highness, but the Allfather has not yet returned from the Great Hunt.”

As if on cue, the doors were flung open and a team of ten Aesir came in dragging a massive animal carcass behind them. The nobles cheered, standing as Odin walked in with his spear in hand. The king wore a heavy fur cloak and his helm, raising his arms triumphantly as the crowd yelled.

“Merry Jul to you, my steadfast subjects! The Norns grant us their bounty tonight.”

He walked to the dais, leaving the palace staff to start skinning and preparing his prize, and stopped in front of his chair to strip off his thick outer layers.

“Merry Jul, Grandsire.” Gyða bounced in her seat.

“And a merry Jul to you, my darling. You look lovely, as does your sister.”

Sigrid ducked her head, playing with her food. Odin sat, clapping a hand to Loki’s shoulder.

“You missed a good hunt, my son. You should join us tomorrow.”

“I’ll pass, Father. As much as I enjoy a good chase, I’m no archer or lancer.”

“Ah, suit yourself. Riding fast, cold wind in your face, snow crunching underfoot with a dozen hounds in front and a hundred warriors behind – there’s nothing like it.”

 

The meat was roasted and devoured, the wine gulped, the music played, and finally Natasha felt like she couldn’t stuff in another bite. Sigrid tugged her sleeve gently.

“May we be excused, Mama?”

“Pleeeease!” Gyða clasped her hands.

“Alright, but stay out of trouble.”

They got up, snagging Leifr on their way past, and ran across the hall to join a group of Aesir their own age.

“Has Leifr improved with his studies?” Odin asked, mopping at the scraps of food in his beard.

Loki sighed. “He excels at anything his training master gives him – sword, daggers, staff, bow, riding – but I can’t make him sit still for five minutes and read a damn page. Meanwhile Sigrid never has her nose out of a book, and won’t train because it takes time away from her magic lessons. If I could somehow combine them, they’d be the perfect scholar.”

“And Gyða?”

“She’s still young and hasn’t the attention span to focus on any one thing. She tells great tales though.”

The king shrugged. “What does it matter if Sigrid will not learn to fight? She is a lady. It is not expected.”

“She must be able to look after herself.” Loki insisted.

“She has magic for that.”

“Magic is not the answer to every problem.”

Odin laughed gruffly. “You didn’t always believe that. Sigrid may change her mind later; it is Leifr you need to concern yourself with. You must teach him discipline.”

“What do you think I’m doing? I can’t force his brain to absorb the lessons if he’s not listening.”

Natasha leaned on the arm of her chair, half-listening as the two men argued good-naturedly. She looked across the hall filled with exuberant Aesir, spotting a few of her acquaintances in the crowd and sharing a wave with Magnhild. She watched her children playing, little Gyða lording over her peers as Leifr hung upside down off the end of the table and Sigrid whispered fervently with a couple of older noble girls. She’d never had a family on Earth, and here she was in the middle of the most bizarre one in the whole nine realms. She glanced at Loki again and smiled, the expression distracting him from his conversation so that he relaxed a bit.

“We’ll figure something out.” She said.

“Yes,” the trickster smirked, “We’re outnumbered but we haven’t been beaten yet.”


End file.
